Between Friends
by Corwin Sparrow
Summary: One year after the events of MegaMan X6, the survivors discover a capsule containing an intact Reploid that predates X! What will it mean to the legendary protectors of Earth, X and Zero?
1. Pilot Episode: Interlude

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: The events preceding Earth's present peace; the destruction of Gate, the Zero Nightmare, and the recovery of the enigmatic hero, Zero, have left the Earth in a precarious state. With economic disaster, social disarray and a ruined planet, the remains of both 'races' are left with a difficult choice. While society is left facing disaster, our hero's X and Zero are presented with their own challenges..._

"_**Pilot" Episode: Interlude**_

There it was, hovering three feet from the broken tile, a yellow and silver sphere 'eye' of unknown alliance. It paced his every step, maintaining no more of less than an eight foot distance. His lip cursed curled unpleasantly.

_Saber and Buster, both useless!_ The drone bore no identification nor had it the pride of self will.

"Zero! Zero!" called a concerned voice half a dozen feet and one level away. Zero peered up through the gaping hole in the ceiling, cursing the sluggishness of the Terra Armor.

_He'd have to lose the Ninja,_ of course, he griped. _Corrupted and defunct. The Terra Armor is impressive, but not mobile enough!_

X clambered through the hole, hands and feet holding their surface with no visible means of support, until he dropped to the tiled floor with the unmentionable grace of a refrigerator. With four inch ultra-dense armor plate, the Terra resembled a stylized 'Theron' builder drone, with its bulky limb brace-beams and indiscreet lines.

"X," Zero almost swore as he watched his friend steady himself. "This is a sheer erratum. Can you even use the saber in that?"

X nodded, detecting Zero's attempt to shoulder the burden of the coming battle. He would not allow it.

"Alia improved the armor. It is twenty-three-point-eight percent lighter than Dr. Light's initial version," X said with the hopes of mollifying him. "She also doubled the Buster's attack range."

"That will do. Come! The trace has not faded yet!" Zero snapped impatiently, turning to run. X's hand gripped his shoulder heavily.

"Go ahead of me. I will only delay you. Too many lives are at risk!"

"Yes, but I will not go alone, X. We are a team, and no one can stand against us when we unite in battle! Even Gate," he declared as though X had forgotten. "Move as quickly as you can… I will scout ahead."

X bowed his head, agreeing sharply before they set out after the 'unidentified energy signature' detected twelve minutes ago by Alia. Zero seemed to be attuned to the source, and though Alia had her suspicions, she had not challenged Signas' order to locate and – if necessary – eliminate this new threat.

The waiting room connected to a hallway which turned right, becoming a seemingly endless corridor of debris and death. Humans – doctors, nurses, and patients lay with wounds of the most brutal nature: Some still twitched and moaned in their last throes. Occasionally a Reploid or Maverick Hunter would appear, usually function less. Three of the thirteen were given the Hunter HQ transfer key and allowed to transport there. One spoke:

"You! You look like the one who attacked us!" sputtered the Reploid Systems Analyst, gazing with one undamaged eye at Zero. "I know you – champion of our race, Zero, so I know that it was not you, truly. He was infected, you see, with some manner of virus. The ruin you see he executed with the slightest of effort, using a weapon of great power! A saber, like yours!"

"A saber," Zero mused, recounting X's defeat of his nightmare self. "Is there more? What did he do? Did he speak?"

"He said that he will cleanse the Earth of humans. Zero, you must stop him! Only you and X can do it! He waits in the … common room."

"Thank you Chiffon, but do not stress your systems any further!" X blurted hurriedly. "Please go to the base. Lifesaver will repair you there!"

"Yes… he let me live to tell you that. I will go, and I thank you," he conceded slowly, before his battered and dust smeared body – what remained of it – became a thin strand of beige and blue light, striking upward though the ceiling. The chunk of wall tilted forward with a thud! and a short burst of chalky gray dust.

"And I thought I was arrogant," Zero shook his head as he turned to X. "The common room is that the end of this hallway."

"A trap-!" X gasped.

"Of course, X, have we not been invited into them many times before? Come, we will meet this Nightmare on his terms."

"I see no other way," X relented, though Zero was not in command. "You are right. Let us go."

They continued on, eyes locking on the twin doors untouched by the siege laid upon this undeserving hospital. As they neared, their steps began to quicken, when X stopped and said:

"Wait … do you feel that?"

"That soon we will be scrap? It is oppressive, yes, but we have deleted more powerful opponents. Mightier than … no …" Zero's voice halted on a note of awe and dread which his face mimicked exactly.

"What is it… _Zero!"_ X cried, leaping at him and shoving his impassive friend out of the silver crescent's path as it reduced the door to glass-like shards of brittle plastic. The mono-edged blade of energy caught X, slicing through his left shoulder and calf, loosing them both cleanly from his body.

X tumbled forward in an inert heap, dull blue eyes gaping in horror. Zero rolled with X's sudden motion, and came up on his feet, glowing green saber in hand, unfocused hatred in his eyes. The damaged form of X tempered Zero's boiling emotions as he took stock of the damage.

_You will live my friend, these are not meant to destroy you, if he could do such a thing,_ Zero concluded from the quick sealing work done by X's highly advanced auto-repair systems. _But I swear on my honor he will not have that chance!_

"Come Zero!" commanded a familiar voice. His own. Suspended in an eerie respite, Zero paced deliberately forward, listening to the ominous hum of his saber, a reflection of his desire for combat.

"I know what you are!" Zero called, scanning the quarter-circle shaped room his energy signature. _Negative._

"I am you," replied the sinister sounding version of Zero's cool tenor with the same rhythmic flow.

"Not a 'what', fool," Zero rebutted with a grin. "We are beings of intelligent thought and self will. You are not, I tell you, and do not regret to say so."

"I am the hatred you have for every thing that exists on this planet. There is nothing you do not loathe, no enemy you will not fight. Your past is lost in your future, Zero, and you will be consumed by it."

"What you are is a Reploid of no logic!" Zero chuckled, swiping his blade dramatically.

"You have naught but the desire for battle!" Insisted the as-yet invisible owner of the voice.

"I have friendship."

"A friendship amidst war? I have all but dissolved it, my disillusioned core-reflection. Your 'friend' cannot help you now – he cannot even help himself."

"So you accede the point. We are friends," Zero grinned. _Just keep talking__ you blithering moron._

"I accede that all exists, but as it does, so does the void, into which I shall send you!" flared the voice. "You will soon see that I am right, champion, for I know that your feelings of inferiority run deep in your code. Deny them and deny yourself."

"What else have I done but that? I choose to fight for others, not my express pleasure," Zero replied, sanguine. "You were perhaps once a mere _part_ of me, one I have long discarded. These words you speak mean nothing to you, Nightmare! Come and know me in battle, because as a part of me I know you will only be justified in that!"

"Justified to exist," muttered the voice, its tones reverberating mildly against the bare brick walls. "This is true…"

Responding to an illogical ulterior-process, Zero swept his blade in an upward parry, knocking aside the larger violet saber with little effort. Another followed, a vortex of supersonic wind, which Zero leapt over, swinging his blade through the source of the attack. He glanced up, bemused at failure to make contact, and then darted into the air, firing his air dash thrusters to meet Nightmare in mid-jump. Their sabers hissed and snarled like the gritted expressions of expended effort plain on their faces.

"You survived to fight me," Zero observed as they began to fall.

"X was not you, I cannot prove my existence to him. Only you will know me," replied Nightmare, who grunted and pushed away just as Zero shifted his weight, opting to do the same. "Only you will free me with your DNA!"

"Never!" Zero snarled, summoning in that instant the Dark Armor, which replaced his red plate with black, and yellow with gray. "Face the power of your better! I will not be subdued by my past!"

A crimson energy, swirling and billowing around his slender figure with curling edges, which swam downward towards his saber. Nightmare paused, the metallic magenta tones of his armor reflecting the cursing light of his enemies' hellish blaze.

"_Ultimate light!"_

What burst forth in a swelling of rumbling force receded and superseded human perception of light and sound, shaking the Earth to its core. Alia, leaning over her terminal, gave a gasp at the detection of such wild and fierce energy, and sent a recovery team to the site, fearing for the future of their races.

-

Lifesaver poured, with three bodies controlled by one very powerful CPU, over the data collected from Nightmare, Zero's "evil" counterpart.

"There is no data to account for those power levels, Zero," he started. _Nor is it possible he was defeated by you alone, but it would not be the first time he has evaded – even _defied_ – deletion._ "Where is the body of Nightmare?

"Vaporized. Is his N-Buster and Saber not enough?" Zero protested, sitting and growling like an irritable terrier.

"The saber is unique," he affirmed, taking the inactive weapon by the hilt and passing it to LifeSaver-2 who returned it to Zero. "And unmatched. There are functions stored in its DNA I cannot fathom... even the reason it has DNA. The N-Buster is identical to yours, though there is an expansion module where you have none."

"I don't need my Buster, Saver..." Zero negated disinterestedly.

"You don't use it because of its unexplained reduction in range and output two months ago," LifeSaver elaborated, near profuse. "When the Nightmare began."

"I see," he replied dryly.

"Safety is my primary worry. There are many tests to run, so until then you will wait."

"I don't need it... I won't miss it now, Saver. Run your tests, and when you are done give me the chip," he demurred, laying out the law rather plainly. LifeSaver-3 stepped over from a DNA decoding terminal to Zero's left and gently left a small IC in his palm. "Thank you. How is X?"

LifeSaver grimaced over his shoulder.

"Weak, but stable. He was not infected, but I cannot ascertain the nature of his immunity to Nightmare's virus. Zero shook his head.

"Why? Why are we immune?"

LifeSaver gazed at Zero for a moment, then said:

"A virus of the same strain, Zero, if that is what we should call it. You have a will so strong that like Sigma, it can not be overwritten or deleted. Sigma's code was not sate in its shell – instead his desire was to unify every Reploid he came into contact with. Hindsight, Zero," he said, waving a finger, "indicates that Sigma was only a virus by definition. I believe he, you and X, have, what can be approximated to be a soul."

Zero raised an eyebrow.

"I won't bore you with my hypothesis," he grinned, knowing that he'd finally peaked the warrior's interest after these many years. "I can tell you that X's systems were heavily strained by damage done by the virus and Nightmare himself. It may be months before he awakens."

Zero nodded solemnly, folding his arms.

_You fool!_ He cursed internally. _X gives you his life on a whim, and what can I repay him with? He _has_ my allegiance... My deaths for him do not equal his matchless integrity! What remains?_

'The blade serves none, Zero, not even me. Destroy it, or it will destroy you,' Nightmare had told him laying pale and ruined. _No! For X, and for all Reploid kind you will not let that hatred leave only open wounds! The Nightmare blade will serve us... otherwise, all hope for peace is lost!_

"Zero? Is there something the matter?"

Zero glanced up and made a negating gesture.

"No Saver, I am well, and soon _all_ will be well with me," he proclaimed with a tone of inspiration that failed to capture LifeSaver's interest. "Good day."

"Good day," LifeSaver responded, not paying attention to Zero's abrupt departure.

-

Gratitude was not an unknown feature of her character, for somewhere inside of the copious flow of tasks to be monitored, managed, and recorded, she had a chance to work on the armor and simply reflect. It took less than two percent of her CPU time to calculate the necessary steps to repair X's armors, provided that their heavily encrypted data remained intact. Even the Terra armor looked to be in poor condition, so seriously fragmented by the mischievousness of the 'Zero Virus'.

_Not even a chance to analyze its code!_ she thought regretfully. _Was it self-willed? Now I may never know!_

So far the corrupted sectors found by the diagnostic software could be restored, but without a backup – which was impossible to make – any unique hardware lost would spell certain doom for the armor. It would be defunct as useless, as no 'spare parts' could be grafted into a new design. The Terra was just too temperamental!

Hope there was, though, with the Falcon, Nova, Gaea, and Blade armors secure. Remarkable how resilient they seemed to be, when others simply failed at the first sign of corruption! How much like the humans they were!

Alia could not help but marvel at the formidable team the Reploids (comprised of robots, drones, android, and cyborgs) and Humans (the rest) had become. Signas saw the low-level disruptions among the socially maligned and the dissidents, but they could not rally together a force with sufficient organization to pose any viable threat.

_Another uprising is due,_ she mused, gazing at the sector truant as it blinked alarm. _Oh no! The alloy formula!_

Alia bowed her head, closed fist dropping softly onto the readout, sorrow darkening her face. That was it ... the Terra armor was worse than useless: She could substitute the formula, but could never equal its sub-atomic density. Moreover, there were no samples of the alloy to replicate or analyze. It would have been simplicity itself...

"Report, Alia," requested a stern bass voice flatly over her headset.

"_Uh?"_ she bleated, blinking out of her stupor of remorse. "Yes sir, I have bad news."

"What is it?"

_Have I let X down?_ Alia sighed, a purely emotional response to the situation.

"Alia? Please report immediately," Signas demanded.

"Sorry sir. The Terra armor's alloy code is corrupt, and I cannot synthesize a replacement comparable to the original formula ... until I have at least had a change to review my records of its properties, and even then..."

"Thank you Alia. Do you have a suitable alternative?" Signas interrupted gently. Alia was not surprised.

"Yes sir. The Falcon armor is ready, and will function adequately."

"Excellent. I knew my trust in you was not misplaced," he replied with a genuine warmth. "Have you uploaded the revised schematics to Doctor Silvane?"

"Yes. She has requested further alterations of the engineering floors."

"Then make them," he said, tension audible.

"Yes sir," she acknowledged, harried somewhat by the unusual show of emotion. _Only the best for the assistant of the late Dr. Cane?_ "Sir?"

"Yes Alia?"

"What is X's condition?" she asked, poorly concealing her anxiety. Signas voice softened, speaking as a father to a daughter.

"Well, but we cannot know when he will awaken. I will not risk further damage by doing so before there is absolute need."

The leap in logic followed without a hitch:

"So Zero has joined him?"

"Yes, but Douglas tells me he is running simulations involving the Nightmare Blade."

Alia's eyes widened in something of horror. She had reviewed and analyzed its DNA! There was nothing like it, and though she could ultimately trust Zero, the darkness in her heart could not be denied.

"Is there nothing more, Alia?"

"No..." she said, voice distant.

"When will you deliver Dr. Sil-"

"In two days. Good day, Signas," she stolidly cut him off, terminating the signal on a sour note. Silently, slowly, she turned and walked towards her historical logging terminal, face registering no sign of feeling nor process. Then, at the black chair she sat, and lifted while hands to the keyboard.

"It has been two months since the extermination of of the Nightmare Virus and its Master, Gate. To this day I wonder how he became so misguided, since he had never expressed so dangerous thoughts or desires in the time we worked together.

"_I digress. The atmosphere bound dust shield caused by the collision of _Eurasia _has begun to settle, and so we are attempting to replant native flora and fauna in regions most exposed to solar light and radiation. Reploid built and maintained greenhouses continue to supply the majority of food for the Humans and Cyborgs on Earth and the local satellite, the Moon. 'Oceano D'argento' is nearly self-sufficient, with only a need for twelve percent external stock and supply import_.

"_The Reploids and Humans who survived the cataclysm have formed the new hope of our collective future: 'The Unity', lead by Signas and Yale Cadius, the most knowledgeable survivors of the Maverick Wars and as elected by their respective alliances. Together we are exploring our two options:_

"_The first is to burrow deep into the Earth, where it is still warm, so that we can construct a self-sustaining underground city that will require as little interaction with the surface as possible. Currently two sites are excavated: In the plains of Mexico, just ten miles north of the equator, and in Rome, where much of the soil is still rich with life. There are occasional setbacks, but we are satisfied that progress is steady, and that success is only a matter of time and consistent effort._

"_The second is to construct a new colony the Moon. Oceano D'argento has become a landmark of hope for the desolate hearts of the hopeless. Though the workers rely mainly on Reploids and drones designed to operate in the harsh conditions, construction is progressing admirably, and we are two months ahead of schedule. It is a record for the _Re-Organized Guinness Book of Achievements_._

"_Black Sparrae and his team head the dome development, and reports that a second dome nears completion. We are told that there have been no casualties, few disputes, and that only three drone revisions have been necessary to meet their needs, but that is to be expected._

"_Morale is high, and the labor is good. Unity has accomplished much more than anticipated, and far more than history recalls, though we are not alone in our plans for the future. 'New Dawn' is a poorly organized faction of Humanists who have assembled on the continent of South Africa, where the abandoned ex-Maverick Hunter Base lays in waste._

"_They are technologically limited, and having no leadership structure has kept them from becoming a viable threat thus far. I estimate that it will take them another eleven months to rebuild the city, and make use of the might of our previous base. I rue the day that the might of Metropolis arises once again._

"_I can only hope that for the sake of peace and its preservation that X and Zero are not consumed by the legacy of the Nightmare. If they are, I can see no future for us at all."_

[Signed] Alia Althea Light.


	2. Episode One

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: X and Zero face off against Nightmare, previously believed to be particles and null-bits. X is seriously damaged, and Zero reaches into that well of inner strength he seems comfortable with. Alia learns that another of X's armors is defunct, and writes of current history, where humanity is fortunate enough to have an undrownable hope that has brought about a new alliance..._

_**Episode One**_

Signas regarded the report with some measure of pride. Was he not told that survival was impossible for every enemy the valiant Hunters, X and Zero, encountered? Doubt had not colored his equations, nor had it interfered with his plans and their execution. Assembling a list of the greatest minds available among the Humans and Reploids, and much to his interest, beyond the Reploids built to manage the new territories, the list was dominated by Humans. Only sixteen Reploids represented them in this manner.

Yale did not seem surprised at all, however.

"What did you expect, my friend Signas?" grinned the cream-skinned male, amused. "Superiority is not a question of capability, you know. Your new Reploids may be smarter, faster, and more knowledgeable, but they lack creativity, that's what."

"My arrogance? Of course," Signas agreed lightheartedly. "We are not that dynamic."

"Not even close," Yale nodded. "Borrus is due to be here soon."

"In six minutes," Signas replied, rounding it up to spare his friend unnecessary detail. "The excavation of North Terminus proceeds slowly. Perhaps there will be better news this time."

"Why was that? What is the fuss about?" Yale asked, plunging a hand into a drawer, from which he pulled a PDA and stylus. "Alia's deadline, isn't it? Metropolis is in ruins. It is hard to believe they will resuscitate the old wonder."

"We cannot tell. Satellite transmissions will not penetrate the dust shield," Signas concluded. "As you say – you humans have the diversity of character to aid you."

Yale grinned at the point, and began to review his own reports, several of which concerned him. Signas, like a poorly motorized statue, mulled over the events of last year, and wondered how much longer they could maintain their levels of activity. It was a short musing, abbreviated by Yale's acute memory and method of speaking. Signas liked that he did not speak around that which was directly in their path – his Reploid-like traits were clearly the reason for their effectiveness, as much as Signas had adopted some human generalities for Yale's sake.

"We have six months, if Alia is accurate, though we _do_ have a habit of pulling a fast one at the last minute," Yale remarked caustically. "Hedgewick tells me we may not be able to help an uprising – they have a collection of well known scientific geniuses with great ethics and no morals. A year is an optimistic estimation in my opinion."

Signas considered this statement, but then found his train of thought dispersed by the appearance of a mole-styled Reploid, waddling ungainly through the double-wide entrance, before pausing to make a courteous salute with red hands.

"Sir-" he began hurriedly. Signas raised a negating hand with a slightly dissatisfied gesture. "Sorry."

Signas bowed his head and half-smiled. Yale kept his silence and mirth, activating his personal damping field. He knew well what to expect, and a trip to the infirmary wasn't in his plans that day.

"Borrus Mole reporting, sir, on the status of the excavation of the northern mountain face," he rumbled in a voice that made Signas joints groan. Yale grimaced, but nodded at Signas, signaling that he was unharmed.

"Make it quick, Borrus," Signas stated, preparing his internal auto-repair systems for any of the sonic force his armor might not absorb.

"Yes sir. We've encountered a unique stasis capsule. It bears markings I do not recognize, and is of very inefficient design. I've no memory of any such likeness."

"And you have no doubt drawn a conclusion about its conclusions," Signas less-than-speculated.

"There is insufficient data to speculate with any measure of accuracy, sir..." Borrus muttered. "But we are certain that it predates X."

Signas sat forward in alarm, eyes widening. "When was this discovered, Borrus? Have you requested the presence of a Hunter?" he blurted in an uncharacteristic show of concern. Borrus was a moment studying his reaction.

"An hour ago. Zero has been awoken, and he will arrive within minutes," he replied, his oval face giving the impression that he cared a great deal less than his service record indicated.

_An entire year of peace! Three more, and we will be prepared to contain any threat. What has the Maker unleashed upon us?_ he thought resisting the woe and memory of so many destroyed Reploids. _Will Sigma's legacy never die?_

"What is Doctor Silvane's report?"

Borrus shook his head.

"She has not seen the capsule, but is en route," he stated simply. "I have come to confirm the next action, Signas. We _have_ identified an intact Reploid inside the chamber, but we require authorization to activate it."

"Activate it? Are you sure that is reasonable?" Yale commented. Signas nodded significantly at him.

"Yes sir. It is the only logical next step."

Yale gazed uncertainly at Signas, who smiled softly, respite in his manner.

"There is no threat that can overwhelm the Hunters now, Yale-"

"That is not my reasoning, Signas, sir," Borrus interjected, bowing to avoid appearance of rudeness. "Douglas has analyzed my first query upload, and tells me that it has undergone a battery of tests similar to those X underwent prior to his activation. There is no guarantee it wasn't another roboticist, but we are confident that it is not dangerous."

"Very well then, Borrus," Signas agreed. "Make every effort to awaken this Reploid. You have my authority to request whomever you need below A-Class assignments."

Borrus grinned, a somewhat grisly and menacing expression, and mulled over who he would 'require' – he had a few favors to return, and now would be the time to call them in.

"What about virus barriers, Borrus?" Yale asked hastily, as if unaware that all viruses had been inactive for eight months. Borrus chuckled at the idea of such indiscretion, especially after the lengthy lectures of LiveSaver and his drones.

"Of course sir."

Signas clasped his hands together has he leaned back and said: "Then return to the site at once. Inform Alia immediate of the Reploid's condition. I want to know who created this one."

"Yes sir," he responded promptly, raising a hand in salute. He then turned and loped through the doorway.

_May the Maker be merciful,_ thought Signas in the closest approximation of prayer he had ever attempted.

-

"Where? Cordi, what madness is it? In the side of a mountain, you say?" grunted a towering Reploid in red, white and black. Several feet of thick blond strands of hair swayed dramatically behind his slender figure as he strode towards the open transport pod.

"Oh! Uh, yes Zero, sir! Borrus as requested your presence," stammered the four and a quarter foot tall teal and turquoise Reploid, parroting the official chatter he was not akin to. "They're very excited about this find."

And imagine this! Zero! Needed – his – yes his! Help!

"I know. There's no time to waste, eh? Why don't you tell me what you want, where I should stand? Get to the core of it already," Zero replied almost bitterly. Cordi nigh deleted his base speech protocols in his excitement. Leaping up to a dark control panel put him in command and booted the nervousness from his memory. With a sober face he gingerly touched the panel which gently issued an amber light under his hands.

"Stand there."

Zero said nothing. _Want not, waste not, speak not, tarry not._ He almost sighed.

"Restless already, Zero?" boomed a familiar voice. With one red armored boot on the green, light radiating pad he turned and nodded.

"I dreamed, Signas. I don't like to dream. They remind me of the Maker I don't know."

Signas proceeded steadily into the personal space of the Hunter who had brutally smashed and deleted numberless Mavericks. He feared Zero, certainly, but no longer doubted his loyalties, having seen the infected manifestation of the Reploid dashed to scrap by his own blade.

"Have you mastered the Nightmare Blade yet? Can you trust such dark power?"

Zero looked Signas over as if analyzing his weaknesses. Remarkably few for a robot not slated for battle. He looked tough, but…

"I could cut you down with a stroke," he grinned, listening to Cordi choke. "But what would it do? How would I find my capsule when I return to base? You are my sense of direction, is that not true?"

Signas laughed heartily, genuinely comforted by those words. Rarely was he a Reploid of pure bravado. A challenge was not oft' casually dropped, except by those who shared such respect.

"Don't get lost in the mountain, Zero," Signas said, by way of finishing the conversation. Zero started into the energy column, but hesitated.

"But there was something…"

"Yes, what was that?"

"A power like I have not felt before. Is X asleep now?" It would not be the first item his power had altered since previous recollection of the dynamic warrior.

"I will not awake him, unless you command it," Signas told him. "The damage was extensive, as you know."

"He damaged himself for my honour… I debt I cannot repay," he said, head momentarily bowed. "No matter! Who can defeat the great X and Zero?" he brightened, though somewhat falsely, Cordi noticed. "Well Cordi – will you not press your button and send me on your way?"

"Yes! Thank you Zero, and be careful," he piped happily, left hand hovering over an unseen key. Zero bowed his head sternly and saluted at Signas, who replied in kind.

Then the hand fell.


	3. Episode Two

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: A stasis chamber containing a new robot is unearthed by Unity excavation crews, and Zero is summoned to oversee its activation..._

_**Episode Two**_

The cavern was pitch dark for the first ten meters, where fist-sized lights illuminated the tunnel made to the standards of Doctor Nylus Corran, who preferred to be called "Niles". Zero walked a consistent two feet behind Niles, slightly amused by his pleasant nattering.

"An honor, you know, to finally meet the savior of our race. Is it true you're not susceptible to the effects of high pressure depths?"

"Water is the appropriate context?" Zero asked, a little bemused.

"Yes."

"Only when they apply," he smirked with mild sarcasm. "Though I have no buoyancy."

"Is it true what they say? That you died?" queried the tan haired man with an eagerness that belied his professionalism.

"We do not die in the manner of humans," replied Zero shortly, not wishing to elaborate on the subject.

"There is the matter of software preservation, is there not?"

"I did not save you humans alone," Zero bit off sourly, shifting the topic with a tangible hint of guilt. Niles patted his lemon colored helmet covered head and apologized profusely.

"I meant no offense, sir."

"I am _not_ your superior," Zero continued irritably. "How far do we go?"

"A few more, uh – here we are," he announced as they approached a sealed blast door. To the right was a glowing panel into which he entered a series of numbers Zero had been authorized to dedicate to memory. He did so.

"Borrus!" Zero called as the left door panel slid behind the right.

"Ah, the masterful Zero! Welcome!" reported Borrus' subsonic voice, rattling Zero's general use red armor. Alia had made available his Ultimate armor, but he had assured her it would not be necessary.

_His voice, that is his weapon, I see,_ Zero observed, taking quick stock of the shorter, more rugged Reploid. Zero began to want for some form of comfort: battle or sleep, and it was evident when he spoke: "Who as come to activate the robot?"

"All I hear about you, they don't exaggerate in the slightest. Impatience is your last name, I hear tell. You will be appeased if I introduce Doctor Silvane, Reploid Historian," growled Borrus without meaning to. He respected Zero, but disliked his attitude.

From the darkness of the cavern stepped the woman, probably attractive from the human perspective. Blushing from the collar of her tweed turtleneck sweater to the brunette widows peak of hair, she regarded Zero in open awe.

"My goodness Zero, you look incredible! Not a dust mote or hint of wear on you," she gaped, examining him from a comfortable distance. Suddenly she stopped, staring. "What is that Saber!"

"The Nightmare Blade," he stated coolly, recalling that her facial discoloration was the flush of excitement. The sign of respect faded as a sigh passed her lips. "It is a pleasure, Dr. Silvane."

"Ruth, please. Its output must be greater, but is it more complicated to control, as well? I hear you rarely use the Z-Buster," she asked. "No need when the Saber can adapt as well as X's Buster."

"The Saber has a three foot blade, four times the cutting power, and is unstable. I will improve it, when there is time," Zero explained quickly. "But I have not replaced my old saber, since the Nightmare Blade cannot use foreign DNA."

"Remarkable! I must study it some time, if you wouldn't mind!" Ruth smiled. Zero gave a tentative nod. Silence swarmed them, flitting eagerly about like a cloud of dense, foul smelling fog. Ruth shook her head and chuckled. "I am so entranced by you there is no reviving her. I am sorry."

"Her?" Zero blinked interestedly. Ruth, meanwhile, stepped back into the darkness, where she muttered something to the effect of: "Dr. Light could never have created you … no style … Now … let's see what this thing can tell us. I shan't need a light much longer!"

_Swimming the pool of the unknown,_ Zero groused. _What is it like to have such emotion and no control over your memory_?

A faint blue column of light appeared, revealing the elegant partially buried capsule. It was silver and white, with an opaque, light blue window, under which was the slender shadow of a distinctly feminine figure.

Several rapidly entered keystrokes were confirmed by harmonic tones, followed by a man-sized tower of light, in the center of which hovered a heavyset man in a lab coat. Obscuring his somber expression was a thick beard and full head of hair, which they knew from historical records to be white.

"Hello Zero," spoke the hologram.

"Doctor!" Zero blurted, astonished.

"I hoped it would be you or X. The tests have completed, and the result is positive. This robot will not malfunction, nor will she defy human law through an error of software. Listen carefully Zero. I have limited resources on hand."

"Who is in the capsule, Doctor?"

"Someone very special. She assisted me in many capacities, including the development of X's software. She was a gift to me. In ways she was more alive than Rock ever was, and because of this, I determined to give her life."

"Doctor…" Zero repeated lamely. "What is your intention?"

"To achieve that which I could not with X. To assure peace on Earth."

Zero shook his head. "You can't have the answer to that, Doctor. We have fought for peace every day of our lives. We were not created for peace."

"There is another way, you see, but I failed also, to see the manner in which I might achieve it, until I began to die." There was a pause, purely emotional, and Doctor Light quickly ceased control of it, wresting from it his duty. "I am sorry Zero, but I have learned a secret from my nemesis, and for you I have a chip. I have scanned it for any trace of virus, or other trickery, but in the end he intended for you. I do not know its contents, and I will not reveal the truth to you. I am certain you will find all that you need stored on that chip. It is marked 'W-Final', and with it are upgrades for X and the occupant of this capsule."

"Will you not tell us who is in there?" Zero demanded.

Doctor Light smiled. "Why no my friend. That is the gift. To discover who she is."

"Then do it!" he cried, sweeping at the air with his hands. "Let us see her."

"Very well. Please deliver these to their owners, Zero. Forgive me, for I could not prepare to meet your temper in so short a time."

_So he does have a sense of humor, after all!_ Ruth giggled.

"Please relay my best wishes to X. My grandest dreams seemed only ripe for destruction. I wonder if Wiley built Forte because he knew this? Was he a messenger or the source? I believe I am right, however, though they may be only the desires of a tired, old, foolish man. For all of my knowledge I am the proud founder of a new age of betrayal, death, and pain."

"What is he saying, Zero?" Borrus muttered, shifting on his feet anxiously.

"X believes in that dream, Doctor. I fight with him because I believe also that there is more than death. If Doctor Wiley dreamt of a post-apocalyptic Earth, then he was right," Zero stated smoothly, dramatically to a hologram he knew was only searching for keywords in his speech and responding with a form of AI to his manner and inflection. "I refuse to lose hope, however. So long as we live there is hope, and so long as there is right to protect, I will not give up."

"Thank you Zero. Now I unseal the capsule, and unveil to you my last creation. Please, protect her."

"Yes Dr. Light. I accept your charge on my word of honor."

Ruth's eyes widened. _Wow!_

Doctor Light said no more, bowing as much as his age and illness – at the time – would have allowed, before terminating the hologram. Ruth immediately felt the seal release, air brushing her palm gently as the window nudged open. A pair of hydraulic pumps whined as the door drifted away from the capsule, halting after only seconds of motion.

Zero looked as though he were concocting vile obscenities to be uttered at the nearest Maverick, but Ruth both knew his character better, and discovered that her admiration surpassed the dark aura of his demeanor. That harsh sobriety belied the depth of his concealed heart.

_Now focus, girl,_ she curtly reminded herself, feeling a touch obsessive. _I wonder what she looks like!_

For a moment Ruth had the appearance of uncertainty, but gave a quick nod as the haze of cleaning mist dissipated into the air, very much 'unveiling' what Doctor Light likely considered his finest achievement. As with humor, the Doctor plainly had a knack for dramatics.

The blue and red figure had a comely, doll-like appearance, with large eyes, small lips, a round, delicately featured face, and short blond hair. Large hands and feet all swam into a smallish torso with womanly hips, an average bust and padded shoulders. Zero's eyes locked upon her, falling so out of character that he barely knew himself except for the thrumming joy in his impact resistant frame.

Ruth gazed eagerly on, knowing love at first sight, at first sight. _I hope it is true, that Zero can have this chance for happiness._

Expectantly they looked on, waiting the birth of a new Reploid – for this is the manner in which they meet life, 'infant of mind, mature of form.' Dr. Cane had always said. 'So rapidly are the mature processes of their minds developed and set in place. A new life born with the facilities of body to survive all that life can bring. I could only hope to protect a child in that way, with the gentility and sanctuary of great power.'

A pomegranate, with its rich crimson and plum colors, sat in the form of a crystal upon her head, mounted in a stylish hat upon her head. In an instant a firelight of intense energy burst in the confines of the jewel. Zero felt something leap forward, and yet, he stood motionless, marveling at the impulse to be at her side. All doubt was cast aside when her eyes opened, filled with boundless hope and love, as high as the sky was blue.

Delicately she sat up, comfortable with the parameters of her freshly activated body. Zero circled to the left of the capsule and took her hand as she stepped out of the containment unit.

"Hello," she intoned in a lovely dulcet, smiling unhindered at Zero, who for that moment knew nothing else but her charming being. Ruth giggled, beaming and bristling with anticipation.

_He's speechless! Oh this is wonderful! He's completely disarmed!_ She chimed with glee.

_She's beautiful,_ Zero thought, unacquainted with the blustering emotions making life… wonderful.

"I am Roll," she said, and bowed formally at the waist.


	4. Episode Three

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: Zero, Doctor Ruth Silvane, and the rest of Unity are introduced to Roll, Doctor Light's 'gift to the future'..._

_**Episode Three**_

"_The wiles of old men are not to be trusted,"_ Light once told Rock._ "We have too many long unfed desires, and a scant regard of moral boundary."_

"_Doctor Light, what do you mean?"_ Rock had asked with a curious twist in his brow. Light merely smiled, ashamed.

"_I have never married, Rock. Blues, Rush, Roll, and you are my children. My family, and yet I desire to ensure your prosperity – your lineage,"_ he half frowned. Rock had only replied silent agreement, taking his statement as purposeful but essentially meaningless to him. A minor spark of guilt was extinguished when he recalled the Doctor's advice to ignore that which he could not reason out at times like these.

_Like these,_ he mused, _when the Doctor looks so alone, so very desolate. He has it right, of course. No family, no one to care for except us. His statement indicates that we matter to him, however._

He looked lonely and fatigued beyond the restorative power of sleep to repair. Roll had talked to him, but ever since that night… he seemed so distant, so very quiet. X let Rock's memory chip 'gift' him these special moments of his life when he slept. He could not tap the encrypted time-keyed index directly, and supposed it was possible that there was none.

Rock had hoped to share the experiences of his life with his progenitor, and had secreted away the last copy of his memory with the dedication to Rush, before he was finally 'laid to rest'. There was no personal message from Rock, but X saw the logic of that, and respected the motivation. The hope perhaps, he might have endured to fight alongside X… or perhaps something he could not understand.

"X," declared a voice.

An electrical signal rippled through his systems, awakening his dormant systems and drawing him from the thick, vivid reality the 'dreams' cast about his consciousness. The diagnostics scans and auto-repair assistants powered down while his sealed capsule opened with a hydraulic hiss. Alia's red helmeted head, angled downward, bore an uncommonly joyous face.

_There must be peace, or she has been infected,_ he surmised humorlessly, watching the clear door swing open slowly. _Alia never smiles._

"Come out, there is someone for you to meet!"

"It's not High Max, is it?" X suggested morbidly, still adrift as to the source of her pleasant manner. Alia was sleek and appealing, but often far too serious and diffident. As if to confirm his assessment of her personality, she half-frowned and shook her head as he climbed out of this chamber.

"A new Reploid. Sorry, new isn't accurate," she said, weight on one foot, hips askew in a way X didn't mind the sight of. "She would be twenty one years and … six to eight months old."

"I don't understand… that's my age," X replied, nonplussed. He glanced over Alia quickly, and then studied the lab for any sign of change. There's my Falcon Armor…

"-Zero left two cycles ago to meet Borrus Mole at the Northern Excavation Site. Are you listening X?" she said, watching him stare at the armor stored in the west wall, adjacent his capsule. "You won't need that, but it's ready. You wanted the dash repaired, and I have done that. Don't you still have the saber and speed boost? You shouldn't be so careless with those upgrades, X, they weren't made for you specifically."

"I kept the saber and damage reducer. Permanent installations, modified according to your recommendations. I can't hope for peace to last," X sighed, folding his thick blue arms over his chest. "How long have I been asleep?"

"One year."

X and Alia turned to face Zero, stolid look yet receptive. X smiled immediately.

"Three hundred and fifty two days, Zero," Alia corrected him stiffly as X stepped forward to grip arms with Zero. A subtle grin of comradeship replaced the darkness lingering in their faces.

"Zero! All is well?" X chimed, mood lightened by his guest and long-time friend.

"Well? X, I have met someone very special who I would like to introduce you to," Zero smiled, eyeing X with particular fervor. With a slight bow he stepped aside, revealing the blue and reds of Roll's feminine armor.

"Hello X," she bowed formally, hands clasped together as a ponytail of blond hair slipped over her left shoulder. With a white hand she swept it back as their eyes met.

"Roll?!" he gasped, recognizing Doctor Light's assistant from Rock's memories. He recalled also a strong affection the warrior had for the young mechanic, and was struck dumb by its emotional impetus.

"Are you –"

"Rock X," he snapped. "I am sorry Roll, but I won't dishonor his name –"_ I don't fill his shoes. I never will._

"Forgive me," she apologized, bowing her head so rapidly X felt a twinge of guilt. "I meant no offense."

"You made no offense, I'm certain," Zero supplied, glaring curiously at X, who seemed stunned.

"None…" X confirmed hastily, emotions akimbo.

"Come Roll, you must be-"

Alia grabbed Zero's hand before it touched Roll's shoulder and said:

"In need of many things a Hunter cannot give her now. Zero and X will be very busy at Cane Valley, overseeing the excavation of the new ride armors the humans have discovered, won't they?" The expectant scrutinzing did not go unnoticed by either Reploid. "And they'll be suiting up in battle armor, too," she warned them expressly as she lead a rather confused looking Roll by the hand to her desk inside the lab. "Now, gentlemen…"

"Yes, Ma'am," Zero answered, taking X by the shoulders and pushing him through the open doorway. "Right away."

"But…" X mumbled.

"Quiet, you," Zero hissed into X's left audio receptor. "Mealy mouthed impolite Reploid if ever I've heard one! What were your errata in there?"

X leaned forward, regaining control of his senses, and turned with a stark expression of confusion to face Zero.

"I don't know! Zero, I don't _know_ that Reploid, but…"

Zero's folded arms were as patient as the rest of his dissatisfied posture.

"I was only introducing myself-"

"You were making a fool of yourself, X," Zero flared protectively. "I've never heard you talk that way before."

"I was trying to start an argument," she said by way of realization. "I can't fathom why!"

Zero frowned bluntly, then took X's hand in his and dropped something into it with the other. He turned sharply and left in his wake these words:

"Doctor Light has given you much, X, appreciate what you have!"

X had only an unfounded gape, eyes locked on the upgrades crafted with all of the skill, heart and dedication one man can muster.

-

"You have much to learn, Roll," Alia started, leading her to a standing maintenance chamber. "But not yet. I have to see what you're made of."

"Okay. I'm usually the one who fixes things – I guess I don't mind," she murmured, clasping at the hem of her blue skirt. "Use reflective radium scans if you're going to do it. Nothing less will penetrate my armor."

"What the-"Alia gasped, adjusting the parameters of the scans accordingly. "You're right! Only Zero and X have such heavy armor."

"Its not heavy, just high density," Roll explained, dark eyes entrancing in the depths of their shining intelligence. "I formulated a new alloy that utilizes a radioactive form of titanium and reduced density iron. Doctor Light called it Rollite, at first. We decided on Transmetal."

"Odd," Roll remarked. "But you're correct on that point, too. I've never heard to the alloy referred to by that name."

"Of course not," she smiled matter-of-factly. Her face sobered as she asked: "You work on X's armors, Alia-chan? Can I call you that?"

"Please call me Alia. We don't use Japanese appellations in Reploid society. Some Reploid take great offense at it, since many of them were considered to be our oppressors. I know differently, but we live in a new culture now," Alia shrugged. "But how did you know…"

"I designed the Falcon."

"It's his favorite," Alia said in a note of awe. "It's survived everything… we have the Nova, Gaea, and Blade, but he never uses those. The rest were corrupted or damaged too greatly to be repaired."

"You've improved it. I am honored. You have significant talent and skill," Roll nodded. "It was a delicate system, and prone to fail if tampered with, or repaired sloppily. I was inexperienced and could not avoid that."

"That is also true… Honored? I assumed, preemptively, I see, that Doctor Light designed the Falcon. I see also why the style is so different."

"He never told you that, did he?"

"Me? What?" Alia asked, looking up briefly from the highly active readout at her fingertips.

"That he designed the Falcon."

"No… Then… Can you prove what you say is true? I don't mean to be so mistrusting," Alia apologized.

"No, I understand," Roll said, her eyes narrowing slightly into a shrewd smile that impressed Alia. "There is a cross and rose embossed on the X-Buster buffer casing, and the following serial code upon the Air Dash drive coils: XBENIMBLEXBEQUICKROLLSLOVESHEILDSYOULICKETYSPLIT."

"Ah! That is so very cute!" she giggled at the limerick, tapping the next phase of the scan. "But do you still love him?"

"X? Yes. I fear though that he no longer knows me. It is my duty to remind him. I love someone _else_ more, and it is terribly confusing…"

As Roll spoke, Alia nodded acknowledgment on two points, mulling over her memory of the Falcon and X's systems: Firstly, the X-Buster buffer casing would not alter due to any upgrades X might receive, while the Air Dash was specific to the Falcon Armor. These reflected the consideration with which the markings were placed. It also meant…

"You designed the X-Buster?!" Alia burst, hands flying up to her face, knocking her headset loose. It clattered on the display, under Alia's trembling hands.

"I improved it, to adapt new weapons. Doctor Light could not increase its ability at first without causing an overload in the simulation, so I designed the buffer, which has a variable energy reserve to accommodate the unique needs of any weapon Rock would absorb," Roll elaborated calmly, with a confidence and familiarity that suggested first hand knowledge. Alia blinked at Roll, knowing the human mechanic was not a weapons specialist… although… was there something they didn't know? To this day they didn't know the fate of the original Rock, nor had they found any trace of Rush's DNA.

"That is remarkable, and very gratifying to learn," Alia said, steadying herself on the control panel as a host of unsorted feelings tore through her frame. "I…"

"Do you love Zero?" Roll inquired suddenly. Alia looked up with poorly disguised pain in her eyes.

"He is a mighty Hunter; fierce, and honorable. I could, but he knows no affections, Roll," she replied with a fatigue only felt by those of unrequited love.

"Oh," she sighed, shoulders slumping visibly.

"But no once has dared brave his heart," she confessed rather selflessly. Alia respected X's dedication to the fate of the Reploids and humans… _Yet he's begun to show signs of stress._ _I cannot repair the psychological stresses … I've fixed everything else. Yet I cannot deny his feelings,_ Alia lamented. _Oh X…_

Roll gazed steadily at Alia, heart in hands. She was one of those who felt so earnestly for others, sympathized so strongly, that she could not stand motionless when the opportunity arose to help. She said with conviction and clarity, to the Reploid whose eyes glazed with distress into the distance.

"You love X."

Alia's face tightened, and he wondered: _Who is updating who, now?_

"Yes, I do," she found herself saying. "I cannot deny that. Does it upset you to know that?"

Roll shook her head, lips sealed.

"No. You are honest, and I thank you…"

Alia glanced over the indexed database of parts detected inside of Roll's svelte body. Half a dozen failed to match any registered specification, and Alia could not theorize as to their purpose based on their placement, or even connections.

"What are those … buffers … in your arms? These also… coils? You don't have a dash function, do you, Roll? There are two other parts in your chest cavity that seem to have no specific function."

Roll shook her head again.

"I have no recollection of their purposes. I did not design this body, but my memory indicates that Dr. Light and an unregistered roboticist participated in its development and construction."

"Weren't you human, Roll?"

"Yes, but something happened… an accident… I was nearly killed…" she blinked, voice changing volume randomly as her face wrenched with a powerful, writhing agony. She curled forward, arms wrapped around her stomach. "I can't access… th-"

Alia let out a little cry as Roll burst into tears and slumped against the left panel in a heap, shoulders and chest heaving.

"Roll? _Roll?!"_ Alia called, scrambling around the control panel and kneeling next to Roll's jittering body. _What do I do… what do I… Douglas! What is wrong with you, Alia? Why are you so frightened?_

Not bothering to formulate an answer, she jumped up and ran to her desk, where she hailed Douglas' room, holding her headset to one audio receptor.

"Yes Alia? How can I help you?" he asked in a mild tenor.

"Roll's having emotional problems, Douglas, but there's a memory malfunction too. I believe they're related. Come quickly!" Alia said in a slightly raised, but still controlled, voice.

"I'm no psychologist, Roll, but I will do my best," Douglas offered with an undercurrent of doubt in his voice.

"Thank you…"


	5. Episode Four

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: Alia and Roll discuss matters technological and psychological. Why she participated in the design of X's key technologies cannot be answered before Roll has the equivalent of a nervous breakdown and collapses into silence..._

_**Episode Four**_

"They are _weak,"_ determined a min-tenor at the drop of a clenched white fist. "Too weak."

Serges could not believe his audio codec. He glanced up at Forte and then swiftly down, maintaining the appearance of subservience.

"Nightmare was not a trifle Forte," muttered a dark, collected bass. For a moment he regarded the cobra-like design of his superior with a mix of respect and disdain.

"Yet dispatched so easily! What you saw, my confident friend, was but the merest fraction of his true power!" Forte wailed, paced with arms akimbo. "Nightmare had no goal but self preservation."

"Vigor will not be so 'easily' deleted," concluded the angular, crimson and black Reploid, his body patterned after the sleek lines and movements of a panther cat.

"Yes you will, you dullard. All who meet X and Zero are dust and spent fragments of code," Forte snarled darkly. "No might we can muster will conquer them."

Vigor stared in open amazement at the Reploid to whom he had pledged allegiance, doubtful as to the stability of his core processes. Folding his arms, he shook his head and cast his sight over the silver-white clouds and frost bitten, snow layered mountains.

"You have a plan, then."

"When you cannot delete them, send someone else," he affirmed, baring teeth in a feral snarl.

-

She huddled, trembling, in a heap at the feet of Douglas and Alia, who speculated and assessed her condition with speed only available to robots and the best human minds.

"I can find no errors. Her systems report nominal operating parameters. Not a byte out of order," Douglas admitted candidly by way of defeat. Alia stared at the silent female, brooding.

"That does not mean she is well. This is a psychological process, not a mechanical disorder."

"Yes, precisely. She is undamaged. There is nothing I can do, and Lifesaver would only mule on about her beatific structure and systems," Douglas concluded with a wry smirk. Alia rolled her eyes.

"I will summon X, then."

"You mustn't!" he blurted. "Are you sure he is not responsible?"

"X is busy now anyway," she said, not hearing him entirely. "Mustn't? Why not? How else will I learn how to help?"

Douglas shrugged.

"I'm not sure, but if I were her, right now I would need an intimate friend," he issued with a air of compassion. "She has known no comfort in this life."

"Ah..." Alia agreed as Douglas picked up his diagnostic satchel and moved toward the exit with lingering gazes at the pair.

"Good luck. I regret this is all I can do for her."

"Thank you Douglas, I was not sure about her health."

"Don't thank me until she well and happy. I don't want gratitude for her death if that's how this ends," he spoke briskly but sincerely. "Death isn't how _I_ deal."

"You are not a Hunter, Douglas," she bit off with measured reproach.

"No, and I apologize for my unwarranted sarcasm. I meant no disrespect."

"Go on, I forgive you, you silly robot," she grinned. Douglas half-turned before looking back and asking: "How's the Terra?"

"Ruined."

"No! Really?!" he cried, forlorn and heartbroken. "What was lost?"

"The alloy formula. I have no substitute."

"A shame! Such a magnificent armor!" he sighed, disappointed. "Perhaps one day we can compose a superior formula to replace it?"

"Perhaps," she murmured, restraining her expression of distaste. 'Impressive' was more the word. 'Ungainly' and 'boring' where even more accurate descriptors by her estimation. Nonetheless, she saw the dejected mechanic depart with his woe, leaving Alia with hers.

"First things first," Alia decided, thinking aloud while itemizing and testing plethora theorem and viable options. "Are you still processing me...?"

No answer. As anticipated.

"I hope X and Zero are having better luck!"

-

"Petulant, belligerent," Zero growled, irritated more than angry. "A grown whelpling, dressed in his finest battle gear."

"Whats'e mutter'n 'bout d'ya s'ppose, lads?" barked a heavily bearded miner in a nigh ton of mining ride armor.

"Aye chief! Show 'em we're done takin' orders from their like!"

"Aye! Give 'em what for Coil!"

Other voices bellowed from the sidelines in terms not much like endearment. X warily scanned the mob of unshaven miners, whose circular arrangement did not increase his confidence of their potential to be civilized.

_'Zero, don't hurt them!'_ X transmitted privately to his comrade in bemusement.

_'I won't. You trust me, don't you?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'Then watch.'_

Zero reached to his back and snatched the Nightmare Saber from the slim white casing and drew the straight six foot beam in a short arc that no more than flashed in the eyes of the abruptly quiet onlookers.

"Blimey!" yelped the stocky pilot, checking his controls for any indication of damage. "You've got balls, I'll say that! But ain' no light show gonna make me'n me boys turn tail'n run now! I'm gonna suggest ya surrenda, or I'm gonna hafta-_wuh?!_"

Both of the armors four foot diamond bladed claws dropped into the mud with a sickly squish, sliced as if surgically with a mono filament edge.

"Reconsider your rebellion, friend," Zero said, his tenor ringing through the thick crowd. "I do not kill without reason, and I would not want for you to be the first. Though annoyance does seem a compelling excuse..."

"Rebellion? Methinks you judge to harshly, friend! I'd gladly settle for tea an' a chat... 'ow about you?"

Zero nodded slowly, waving the humming blade slightly as he said:

"Yes, good. Now step out of that over-sized tin suit, and we will do that."_ 'You see X? There is hope for them yet,'_ Zero thought sarcastically at X who nursed his silence. Zero watched in mute interest as Coil dispersed the would-be rioters back to their plasteel tents, thanking and assuring them he would 'see it through or die' and 'show the plastic pansies what miners meant to Unity'.

"Come lads, let's go," Coil waved at them, standing near what would have been the camp's bonfire circle. With much amusement and curiosity, X and Zero doggedly nipped Coil's heels as they passed through the makeshift mining town towards his tent. A simple affair with sealed corners, two inch thick plasteel walls and roof, and raised floor with a low-power space heater and cooled food storage unit. Yale saw to it that the miners were well provisioned and supplied.

"Forgive the mess," Coil said, nodding at the pile of idle rollscripts upon his desk. "Dropped th' paperwork since I figured you'd be takin' our demands seriously."

"We do," Zero stated flatly. "We are Hunters, Coil, but not so prone to violence that it is the only method by which we reason."

"Is that the case now? Well, some o' the lads believe a bloody mouth is rational," he chuckled with a faint grin. "Ain't gonna apologize for that earlier business, lads, but I am willin' to go about it like civil men, not civil war. Not what this is now, is it?"

"Not when I last checked," Zero assented.

"Some men aren't happy with peace," X commented bitterly. Silence blew over them like an arctic wind.

"Tell me how things are, Coil. What is all this dissatisfaction about?" Zero submitted roundly as Coil poured boiling water from a kettle into a cup with teabag and milk.

"It's no so obvious, as though we aren't treated well... Zero, was it?" he muttered, dunking the teabag once and flicking it into a nearby waste bin. He plunked down on his plush, high backed seat, cup and saucer in hand, and leaned back, sighing as the chair began to warm gradually.

"As you can plainly see, we've the best you can give us, an' for what we do – mining does have its historical significance among me mates, you know."

Zero nodded comprehension, but drew a blank as to his objective.

"This ain't something you lads can manufacture, but it is a need for me lads, if you get my meanin'," he winked.

"No," Zero said. "I don't."

"Well now, mayhap you don't have such a need among your kind? Built to task, eh? Is that it?" Coil implied, but not unkindly. "Best I should plainspeak then. We need women."

X and Zero stared, puzzled, at each other for an instant.

"You have them. Did you not agree with your families that their safety was of the highest priority?"

Coil gave a hearty attempt at raising an eyebrow.

"Now a man don't think too clear when he's not sure there's going to be a tomorrow. These lads, red blooded boyos who get worked up and run down when they got no woman to labor for. You know that makes a workin' man happy. That 'e comes home to a lovin' wife and hot suppa, so he can say 'I done it for you, wife.' It's a mans' pride, you know. His ego. A good wife fills 'im with fire so's he can do it again tomorrow. He's got no reason to do it otherwise, me lads! None! Besides, the lads 're fightin' something fierce 'cause they ain't got none in months."

"Then perhaps we should..."

"Tut! I know what you'll be sayin' next. Don't be going down that road. I'll give you lads the benefit of the doubt, since you don't know what a woman is to a man. Females are the most delicate creatures, and stronger than men when they do what they do, but power, now never has that been more abused by men than any woman. History says that too, that a family man has got more drive, vitality, and can take better care of 'imself and the lads 'round him. Most times, anyhow."

"I see," Zero acknowledged uncertainly. "You would require permanent housing, and a more environmentally temperate location." _Is _that_ why humans are so able to adapt to their varied social and environmental conditions? Because of family?_

"Aye!" Coil cried heartily.

"The Unity will accede, Coil. We have much to learn about happiness," Zero said, logging away Coil's words and marking them for further research and study. "We had not anticipated this when the agreement was made."

"Who negotiated the thing?" Coil inquired pointedly.

"Rei-lyn Morrue."

"A woman, well, don't that just mince it? Ah, there's no blame here. Who has done this before, and can say as t' what will happen next?" Coil smiled broadly. "Best we got is to be gracious for the roof over our heads and the food in our stomachs. You're a right good friend, and I'm happy to be peaceful about this with you. A right good pleasure, this is."

"What drove you to violence, Coil?" X asked, discontent wavering in his voice.

"Why, that's plain as me face. My lads. If they'd have wanted talks we'd have done talks, but I knew you lads wouldn't hurt us," he grinned. "You do strange things for the people you care about."


	6. Episode Five

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: Douglas and Alia appear to have no progress in diagnostic procedure, though X and Zero succeed handily in reasoning with their 'restless' human counterparts literally digging for their futures..._

_**Episode Five**_

There were times he could scarcely remember where he was. Since awakening his thoughts had been in turmoil; disorganized, fleeting, occurring as if of a routine beyond his control. Auto-Repair listed no masked PIDs, and it had become abundantly clear that Alia was none the wiser.

She was _always_ attuned to his condition, even when Zero's infection had caused a temporary bout of worry and fear to mar his confidence and stability while Zero had been 'dead', purging Nightmare from his systems and recuperating from their battle with Sigma – or so Zero had recently explained. They had spoken – or at least – Alia had listened while X core dumped the source of his discontent and doubt upon her.

She had restored him to his previous status, and afforded him the stability of purpose that he had needed to 'defeat' Nightmare so that Zero could return. Without her confidence and selflessness, Zero would have in all probability still be purging Nightmare.

_Why does she invest so many cycles in my welfare? _He wondered. Consoling and reinforcing of X's viewpoints and directives seemed inconsequential to the recovery of Zero, but he was unsure if he could have surmounted these doubts without her. _I'm doddling,_ he thought listlessly. Eventually the matter tottered up and leveraged the club of logic at the back of his head. His head jolted forward as if from the impact. _Of course! Why else? She _does_ care! But..._

X and Zero had departed the digger encampment by foot, since their destination, Miner's Foot, was only minutes away and shielded by the unusual minerals that blocked their targeting transmitters. They could not teleport directly to the site, though it worried X, that they might actually begin to talk with some measure of seriousness.

Miner's Valley was enshrouded by enormous mountains peppered with patches of white and gray, lethal combinations of soot and metallic powder scattered by the explosion of the colony several years ago. They could not yet spy their destination, but were assured by quick readings that only two small hills and twenty kilometers separated them. X frowned at the lack of trees, knowing the scene from having battled in this valley in the past while seeking out Sting Chameleon.

_Deluded Maverick! There was no convincing him, _X sighed, recalling the joy of Dr. Light's protective armor, discovered just before his encounter with the lightening fast warrior. The battle had left X with minimal damage, while the sparking corpse of Sting's shell at littered the landscape._ What a waste! _He glanced at his silent companion, and nodded._ A waste, yes, but I have fought for the right reasons, and as Alia has told me, is there not comfort in that?_

"Zero, have you noticed Alia asking the Hunters about... things?" he began rather lamely, having the apparent emotional maturity of a ten year old. Zero swung his head away from an interestingly shaped cloud and regarded X suspiciously.

"What things?"

"Psychological things," X replied after a momentary hesitation.

"No. Portense does that, but only when she suspects unusual fragmentation or process breakdown. What does that have to do with Alia? Is she expanding her responsibilities?"

"Maybe." X lied, knowing that she had no use for the strategic information of the Mavericks and their ilk.

"She talks to you?" Zero pried, suddenly curious. "Are you sure you do not 'need a woman' as Coil suggests?"

"I... said no such thing!" X denied, exposing his ulterior motive abruptly, though it had not enjoyed the protection of tact to begin with.

"So that is it!" Zero grinned, before faltering and adding: "... isn't it?"

"Aiya..." X groaned softly. "Do you recall when we were ambushed by Sigma? When you said that Mavericks and Hunters 'just exist'?"

"Yes, I do remember," Zero nodded emphatically.

"That we can 'feel' each other – a trace beyond measure? Zero, I feel Alia. When I do, it lessens my doubt and anger. The evils of the past cease to have such a high priority in my list of objectives."

"I do not understand. Why is it important to remember them, X? I store them away, unless there is critical data contained therein," Zero stated, a slightly pained expression coloring his face.

_Why does he feel so much remorse? We have both deleted so many, and yet I do not regret so much as he seems to. Is it true?_

"Do you regret the past, Zero?"

His eyes flew open, a lighted sharpness in them.

"No. What can I tell you but that I fear my origin, and what it may mean for our future. Yours is untainted, X... I do not have the luxury of that certainty."

"I believe that I love Alia," X ejected, his only answer to Zero's spinning vortex of sorrow. "I am sure that her preservation processes somehow include me, though I do not know why."

"Believe, X, or know?" Zero fired in reply, turning and stopping in front of X. "Would you die for those words, also?"

X churned inside with these questions, a new discomfort he knew must be abated by ... experiences he did not have yet. In an instant, he reviewed their conversation, as they continued along the gravel path, and a question surfaced:

"Do you want a woman?"

"I do..." he sighed, but did not finish. X did not push to ask, either, sense a great void of despondency in the warrior.

-

It was foolhardy, she soon realized, to believe it was her cajoling and encouragement that had brought the psychologically fragile Reploid from her coma, but not entirely untrue. Alia drew her chair over to the diagnostic pad and sat, eight-six percent of her CPU cycles unoccupied – an exceedingly uncommon state, and for Alia, about as white as that canvas would ever become.

She leaned forward, looking troubled at the motionless girl, running several threads of probable self-intelligent speeches before abandoning them altogether.

_It would be best if I opened my heart to her,_ she realized.

"It is not the equivalent of a friendship, Roll, to love someone. At least it does not have those functions. Gate was my friend prior to you, and he had no romantic feelings for anyone. So I have learned to separate the professional and the personal, which I feel for X.

"He has not registered awareness of my lateral processes, based on his well being, perhaps because I have done that – maintained my habit. The process has saved me much social embarrassment, so I have added to successive versions and installed it as a daemon.

"I do not lose myself to him by dedicating unnecessary resources. To do so would mean that I would be useless to Unity. So many Reploids count on me, you see, so I must reserve myself. I have considered many options, but have come to the conclusion that any alterations in my code or processes would detract from what appeals to X. Unlike most Reploids he is charmed by more than my design. There is an intellectual, even collected aspect he must surely appreciate."

"X is a force of nature. He is driven by moral strength and a respect for life, even of that he destroys. You balance him, and no one else can do that," Roll murmured, raising her head so that her eyes could be seen half-open behind her knees. "Your design is just the way you got his attention. You were what kept it. That isn't an advantage I have."

Alia squinted at Roll for a moment, then said:

"He worships the ground you walk on – he adores you," Alia stated in measured tones. "He loves nothing – you are the first, and I daresay the only Reploid he will ever love."

Roll's face tightened, and in an abrupt spinning leap, she dashed away from Alia, swinging her left arm in a short arc, from which a white energy blade extended, cutting into a panel and shorting several display screens. Alia gave a short cry, scrambling to the other side of the room so that there was plenty of room between them.

"What are you doing Roll?!"

Roll's eyes narrowed, an icy coldness in her features halting Alia in her tracks. Stunned and confused, she barely noticed the blade entering her torso just under her power core, their eyes fixed like the unwavering movement of destiny.

"That was what I wanted to hear," Roll hissed, stock still, supporting the limp weight of the Reploid who had named her 'friend'. She shut off the wrist blade and shoved Alia into a console, sparks and lights flickering and dancing amongst crumpled steel-gray metal and viewer Active-Ion Glass.

Immobilized but functional, Alia stared in mute horror as Roll systematically set about corrupting X's armors. First the Nova, then what remained of the Terra, then... a shimmer and wink of light caught Roll's attention.

The Falcon! X downloaded the Falcon! Alia thought triumphantly, hope soaring in her battered frame. Then, to her dismay and pique, so did _Roll_. She approached once again, glaring with contempt at the weaker Reploid.

"Such emotional dependency... a waste and a pity!"

She cursed internally, external audio disabled.

"This isn't about you. It isn't about self-will. Roll doesn't hate you... Oh," she smiled darkly. "Isn't that interesting! Don't you know me? I don't believe you would! Or is it that your systems are too preoccupied with your survival?"

_I am more resourceful than you know,_ she growled just at the edge of Roll's public transmission frequencies. _There! I have it!_

Alia lurched forward, holding her hand up and dragging it down as if through mud. The Saber she activated, nonetheless, just narrowly missed Roll as she feinted.

"You!" Roll cried, startled. "How!?"

Alia limped towards her, one hands over her stomach, an awkward grin where the rancor of betrayal might have been.

_It's my design, Tron,_ she replied. _I could not detect what you were, or know your capabilities, but I found your name and that was sufficient._

Tron moved nor spoke, processing slowly her next action. Alia was already many steps ahead of her unoptimized pipeline.

_You've exposed yourself – not part of your plan. Whatever your goals are, they have been jeapordized by this undisciplined attack!_

"Damn. You're right," she cursed, the lag between them painfully event.

_She must only have access to a portion of Roll's resources! Roll is as fast as I am, but this poorly coded routine cannot match me!_ Alia observed with interested. Slowly she felt the leash slip out of her fingers as the overall objective of Ronne came into question. Nonetheless she laid down her hand:

_You cannot match X and Zero in combat. Your modus operandi is subterfuge, now null. Damaged as I am you will not win. You have been defeated, Tron. Surrender, and I will-_

"Never!" Tron shrieked, powering up an energy shield which she used to send Alia sprawling. Darting forward, she severed Alia's weapon wielding arm and power dashed through the breezeway, taking full advantage of the Falcon's flight and protective energy barrier.

The dozen Hunters on alert either fled, or fired parting shots at the indestructible in-flight Reploid. Sigmas arrived at the landing bat just as her glowing figure became a dot on the horizon.

"Send a warning to X. If that is her objective, they will have only a short time!" he commanded sharply at the nearest Hunter, who stumbled over himself in compliance. "Someone get Doctor Silvane! On the double! _Move!"_


	7. Episode Six

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: X and Zero on matters romantic, while Roll displays more aggressive and violent tendencies in Alia's aptly prepared presense..._

_**Episode Six**_

_Who now possesses what you seek? Who has the requisite expertise, Tron?_ Ask one who is intimate with another, but dismayed and horrified by her actions.

_I don't know. Can't you tell me?_

_We did not download that information._

_Dammit Roll, why not?_

_You rushed. It wasn't necessary to damage roll that severely!_

_It's not her business! Who does she think she is?_

_I will not impede your actions, Tron. I made a promise that I intend to keep, on the condition that you harm no one else,_ Alia said rather plainly, so she thought.

_Uh... what are you saying?_

_Refrain from damaging or confronting anyone else, and I will do for you what you cannot. Do you understand?_

_Really? I mean... well, okay! Where do you we go?_

_There was a lab ten miles north of the equator on the South American continent, just east of the -_

_Cut it. Just uplink with the Hunter GTSN, okay? Alright? I'm a little bored, and really antsy. I wanna be done already._

_Please be patient. This will take time, Tron. In the end you will have what you want._

_I had better!_

_My word is my bond, Tron._

_Aw... you make it sound so honorable! Must you do that? Just you remember where we come from!_

_I do..._

_Roll, I... I didn't really want to hurt Alia. I just... I can't help it! She's so close to X!_

_I understand._

_Why don't you get angry?!_

Nebulous silence.

_Nevermind. I'm gonna look for that lab now..._

_-_

Livesaver had, against his preference, allowed Alia company during her repairs and upgrades. It was Signas' order, rather than his fair bedside manner and sympathetic nature. Alia chuckled at his self indulgent inner dialogue, then quickly apologized.

_You are broadcasting my private channel during this troublesome interval. I do not wish to appear ungracious._

_You do not,_ he said stolidly, glancing at her face briefly as she lay open upon his table, core exposed to his expert hand._ I do lament this, Alia, but I will not defy your wishes. It is who I am, and I will not accept insult by any measure._

_Yes, thank you Lifesaver. I regret these events also, but what are we to do? We must act!_

"Alia, please report," Signas requested, an air of concern and gentility about him. "Why has Roll stolen the Falcon armor, damaged my chief strategist and threatened the welfare of my unit?"

"I'm quite interested in Roll's creator," Yale added, acting as though he had no part despite his official capacity.

_So am I,_ Alia agreed._ It would not be wise to speculate yet, but the probability of a progenitor of the Bonne family having involvement in this insurrection is high._

"Bonnes? You mean Tron and Tiesel? The butterfingered thieves who bumbled repeatedly into Rock during the Digger Era?" Dr Ruth Silvane said, dismayed. "We are speaking of Roll's history, I suppose... of which Tron was more a part. I see your thread, Alia."

"Do you know what's controlling Roll?" Signas insisted, attempting to maintain the subject.

_No, I cannot exactly define the nature of the code with further examination._

"She is rated as Class B, X is not in danger," Lifesaver hastily said. "I do not believe she will succeed."

"Succeed? In what?" Douglas murmured, pondering aloud. "Tron was in love with Rock, wasn't she? Wasn't it her way of denying her heart, making him the enemy?"

Beat, perched ten feet from the group, chirped agreement into the whirring hum of generators and cooling equipment. Then he chuckled.

_Be that as it may,_ Alia continued with a tremble of discomfort in her signal._ She seems to have no compunction using violence to achieve her goals. My anticipation of this attack was not effective enough to stop her. Take heed, like Zero her systems are enigmatic, so we cannot predict her next actions without a large margin of probable error._

"Yes, you're right," Douglas mused. "What will we see next? What will she demonstrate?"

"Only time will tell," answered a familiar voice.

_X!_ Alia exclaimed passed Douglas at a small screen to her left. _Are you..?_

"Fine, Alia, so far. She has not attacked yet. What about you?"

_I am preparing,_ Alia stated with the definition of purpose.

"For what? Roll..." the statement died. Would never? There lay the sum of her actions.

_Yes, the battle led to my defeat, but I will not retire yet! I know what I fought was not her core, and I can only conjecture that it was a crude subroutine with limited access to her resources. The code's signature indicates a high-redundancy encrypted compression algorithm. Without the key index there is no way to decrypt and decompress the code._

"Meaning?" interrupted Zero, apparently nonplussed.

_You're not that basic, Zero,_ Alia responded with a touch of chastisement._ Whoever that code belongs to wants out. That is why I continued to function._

"So that isn't her primary goal: to destroy the Reploids."

_I believe she is self-willed X,_ Alia replied worriedly._ Her cognitive speed were limited compared to any Reploid, but that is typical when one is in survival mode._

Several nods confirmed her words like trees touched by a gentle breeze.

-

Sixty feet below the earth's surface was a literal warehouse of stockpiled Reploid parts, manufacturing and service equipment engineered with passion and attention to detail befitting an artist.

_He was an artist as much as we were, and his craft was the result of the investature of his heart as much as his hands._

"Electronic Arts?"

_Perhaps. I did not develop an interest until much later in my life._

"Until the accident you mean," she commented, pacing cautiously through a utility tunnel leading towards the underground manufacturing plant. "Wasn't it all the time you had left? Nothing to waste for intellect, right?"

_We are what we do with our time. I do not expect you to understand that, you are so young. Rock... was gone, and Forte ... he was the only one who understood. Gospel was such a comfort._

"Gospel has a big heart," Tron agreed, half smiling in the darkness. They approached the tunnel's end, where a large shielded lift door stood aside a diagram of the plant's layout. Of six levels, three were dedicated to Reploid research, design, fabrication and testing, while two housed software coding facilities and their mainframes. The last was a bomb shelter style living environment, capable of providing four to six people for as long as stored supplies would last.

_Level Two,_ Roll said, watching her arm lift with white fingers to touch the firm transparent plastic_. This lift will take us there._

"I owe you, Roll. Not ever have you lied to me – and I am so sorry for all of this," Tron admitted suddenly. "I am glad we are friends."

The lift moved soundlessly, a mild hiss accompanying the sliding as Ronne entered and exited. Level two took the form of a narrow and short hallway with four sealed door labeled according to their functions.

_We must enter Design first, to plan your body. Do you know what you want?_

"It's all here... I need a temporary shell to decompress into," she said, expressing a rudimentary understanding of the process she was to undergo.

That drone will serve that purpose, but until the final transfer your active PIDs will remain linked to me.

"So what do we do?"

I will assume by your approach that you have embedded blueprints and startup routines. Knowing Tronne that is a reasonable assumption. Uploading these will begin the process in 'Manufacturing', the room to our far left. While that runs we will proceed to 'Development' to prepare your software shell and hardware core. In 'Testing and Final Production' we will complete your new form and upload your decompressed kernel.

There was a considerable gap of silence, into which the nearest Guts Man shell could be tossed, and within moments, Tron failed to notice.

_Tron?_

"Huh? You stopped? Oh okay. What do you we do first?"

Roll sighed, or tried to.

"Enter the room labeled 'Fabrication'."


	8. Episode Seven

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: Tron and Roll work out their relationship; Alia prepares for revenege, and Tron's future is provided for..._

_**Episode Seven**_

"Please Zero."

Zero grimaced, unable to justify his hesitation.

"Surely she's not that type of threat?"

"If what I fear is true, then she will be," she rifled back, unusually emotional. "I have already adapted the code, I merely require the permission to use it!"

"I cannot ignore your consideration, Alia, but please re-evaluate the situation! I do not want another life on my head..."

X threw Zero a look, puzzled by the oddity of the statement.

_Who? Iris! What could he have done? Her allegiance was fixed. She would not have turned for him. Is love not enough, or was it not enough for her?_

"Zero, is the guilt that comes from the deletion of Iris?" X requested tentatively. Zero whirled as if to backhand X, eyes wide, heart stricken, though his arm was not raised. Rapidly he regained control – or its appearance – looking away from X and speaking in low tones.

"Never speak again of a matter you do not comprehend," he rumbled heatedly.

"Forgive me Zero, I no desire to offend you..."

Zero looked back over his shoulder with a false grin.

"Of course not, old friend. Alia, yes, you have my permission," he said, flitting from subject to subject like a ravenous hummingbird. Douglas and Lifesaver nodded, then set about making the final alterations to allow for this increase in combat prowess.

"A shame, to re-allocate these resources. Thirty percent of your cognitive functions are required to place you at 'S' rank. This armor will improve that status to 'SA', with room for four upgrades, two of which are permanent upon first installation."

"Permanent?"

"The Dark Armor is not stable unless supported by two fixed upgrades," Douglas supplied. "Zero's Master Saber and shock buffer are two examples of this. It is not as tough as the Falcon Armor, without them."

"I see. Then I will choose these without hesitation. Please install them," Alia requested, catching them off guard. "Do not delay. I am perfectly certain of this decision."

"Yes Alia, Ma'am," Douglas demurred. "Immediately."

"May I ask why two percent of my resources are marked as archived?"

Lifesaver nodded.

"That is where the unused processes have been stored. We have compressed them with-"

"Please delete them."

Signas balked, quite prepared to order her to keep them.

"Signas, I accept this fate. If I am to fight, then I must always do it. I cannot trade that innocence back when this threat has abated," she said, approaching sullen. "I would refuse your order."

"They would not," Signas replied.

"You are far too empathetic, Signas, to force my hand," she fired back knowingly. Signas' large face tightened, white hands clasping uselessly. Then his head bowed as he sighed.

"You know me too well, Alia. We have been friends too long for these petty arguments. Do as you will. Know that my primary concern is your welfare," he said, eyes glimmering with emotion.

"I do," she half-smiled. "Douglas, please do it. I will face the regret of it when it comes."

The room and all present were quiet as the two pressed on, finishing their appointed task within minutes. Alia had requested that her armor mimic the style of X, with a rounded two-toned helmet and simplified appearance overall. Alia rose from the table and examined herself in a nearby mirror.

"Impressive. Contain your regret, for you have both performed a miracle today."

Zero and X were flabbergasted. She sounded so arrogant! A moment later, she turned and blushed, bowing apologetically.

"Ah! Forgive me! These new combat routines have such high priority! Now... we need to find and stop Ronne!"

"Yes. We do," Signas confirmed.

_I only hope we do not lose Alia and Roll both!_ X lamented.

-

"That was, almost... rude," Yale commented, dumbstruck. Ruth nodded earnestly as they passed through the chamber double-doors toward his office.

"I concur, Sir."

"Ruth..."

"I'm sorry Yale," she apologized. "Signas just put me off. I wrote the majority of that armor conversion code, but he will not acknowledge that."

"Because no one told him – he's never slipped to date, Doc. I've kept track," Yale parried. "He doesn't have volatile memory, not like us."

She propped hands on hips while he held open the door, made with the dissatisfied face, and entered the room with an irritated sigh.

"That's no excuse."

"That's just your ruffled ego talking," Yale smirked. "Why would he eject us like that?"

"'Eject'? You've been hanging out with their crowd too long," she feinted with a grin.

"He's a good person."

"'Person'? Brave supposition."

"I have never worked with anyone as strong or as sensitive before. Weeks before Zero's breakdown he counciled with him to find an answer."

"It was found. It was called the 'Zero Nightmare'," Ruth replied caustically. "Anticipation and communication to not equal compassion, my dear sir."

"Now you're mocking me. Enough 'sir'. I will tell you right now that Reploid cares. My wife and I... we've had our problems. It's to him I owe my marriage. Two years before Kayla was born-"

"Stop. You're going to tell me a Reploid saved your marriage? It's feasible my friend, but not his primary function."

"Now you're obfuscating." Yale frowned reproachfully. "It was nothing he could have known, you see. Unity takes time away from my family, and because of that I was almost divorced. Nasuni was six months along, and serves in the Relief Core of Hunter/Human Alliance [before we changed the name to 'Unity']. We had been fighting for months about my long hours, until one day Signas asked me if Nasuni was well.

"What possessed me to be honest and direct I don't recall, but he listened, wished my family good health, and took a week of leave. I didn't see him again until four days later – I remember them, they were some of the longest days of my life. He had quit his leave, and the first day back he apologized to me, not saying why. I thought little of it as we went about our business.

"That night I met the Doula and Midwife he had assisted Nasuni in hiring during his absence. Nasuni was ecstatic, crying with joy at my thoughtfulness."

"But..." Ruth faltered for all of an instant, enraptured. "You didn't say... did you?"

"He _lied_. Signas lied for the benefit of my family to be, and... I owe him a debt I'm not sure can ever be repaid," Yale finished, clasping hands and pressing his lips.

"Breathtaking, simply ingenious," Ruth admonished, utterly awed. "And clever too. He is a Master Strategist."

Yale felt as though his jaw had tumbled to the floor. He took several deep breaths, agape at her perspective.

"You don't believe me."

Ruth smiled smugly.

"I believe Signas detected a potential weakness in his chain of command, and took - albeit unorthodox – steps to resolve the problem. He does have a rudimentary library of human psychology and historical leadership records. I doubt very much this was more than the response to a preset of databased memory codes."

"You're irascible! Totally unfathomable! Completely mistaken, too! What do you call it when I run my my daughter when she scrapes her knee?"

"The same, but you know that you cannot rectify the matter completely. Comfort is not the measure of the solution. Cleaning and bandaging the wound is insuff-"

"The 'wound'?"

"Knee, scrape, surface abrasion, whatever. These are just words. You know her feelings, you know the pain, and you know there will be a limit to your ability."

"What is significant about that?"

"It show self-awareness, consciousness. What do you think would have transpired had Signas' ploy failed?"

Yale shook his head, becoming incredulous.

"I don't know. What does it matter? His plans have failed before, he doesn't get broken up about loses, not much anyway. It's not his purpose."

"Exactly!" Ruth chimed.

"What? You mean to say he's just a machine because he a clearly defined purpose, and we do not?" dashing forward verbally.

"I mean to say that it is his only recourse, to fulfill a purpose. A living creature thrives and grows in their surroundings, using their mistakes to improve."

"What an arrogant statement. Ants do not grow or develop traits beyond those they are born with -"

"Ants are borne as larvae, of course they do."

"Only physically! Genetically they do not change. Aren't we always seeking after something greater than what we presently are? Hence the Reploids?"

"Touche."

"Define life within its context, Doctor. Cells are living, Sockeye salmon are living-"

"But not sentient."

Silence, bitter and tangy.

"Damn," Yale grumbled. "So we're back to this, aren't we? Can robots be self-willed. Choose for themselves. Deny their makers."

"X and Zero aren't significant enough examples. Sigma doesn't come close. Rock, Blues and Forte did no less..."

"But Forte has turned on us!"

"He is Maverick."

"The virus is gone, Ruth."

"Is it?"

Yale was stunned, hand on his mouth, foot inside brushing his tongue. So there it was, as he had said. What was the truth? Was the virus gone? Where the Reploids really self-willed?

Now he had to know.


	9. Episode Eight

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: Alia adapts Zero's Dark Armor while Dr. Silvane and Minister Cadius embark upon a theological discussion about Our Favorite Reploids..._

_**Episode Eight**_

"Tron! Why are you here?!" a slender, blond haired girl declared frantically. The brunette opposite her turned up her nose with a smug grin.

"Well what are you so worried about? Was it something I said, Roll?" she replied confidently. "Goodness, what a fuss over lil' ol' me!"

Roll frowned, shamed, bowing her red-capped head. One hand rubbed the other elbow nervously.

"I... I'm sorry. Rock-"

"You promised not to talk about him," Tron said bitterly. "It's just us girls. No Servebots, no _Data_. No perverted professors, either."

"He isn't! I don't know why you believe that," Roll sighed.

"Never mind," Tron demurred, trotting over to Roll's sofa and sitting with legs crossed. "I hear you met someone in town!"

"He just looks like my Father, that's all!"

"Didn't he save you from a barrage of missiles?" she stated pointedly, meeting Roll's eyes and leaning forward.

"Missiles you launched?" Roll replied tersely.

"Huh, but they weren't aimed at _you,"_ she chuckled weakly in defense. "That lout is always putting you in danger. I would never!"

"Tell the truth, now. Would you do it to get revenge?" Roll asked from two cushions away. "Blondie bait, right?"

Tron became abruptly sheepish, eyes lowered, hands gripping her cushion while she rubbed the carpet with her bare feet. She bit her lip.

"Maybe last year, but after the Motherlode was found, Roll, I can't anymore. You..." she didn't finish. Roll's soft eyes dropped also.

"Yes, I know. Is it just because of that?" Squeamish, hesitant.

Tron closed her eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and sought Roll's worrisome blues.

"I quit. I'm strictly legitimate now. Tiesel quit too. He's on full time at the store," she gasped out all in one breath. Roll's eyes stayed wide for a minute.

"Oh! Doesn't he get... you know..."

"Bored? Who cares! It's his fault, attacking Rock that way. Now he can't dig anymore, the great lummox."

Silence tampered with the lights as a wind shook the _Flutter_.

"I'm tired of the danger. There was a time we were invincible, but I don't know what I'd do if Tiesel died," Tron continued voice dropping, face clouding with sorrow. "We barely argue anymore. He's half my brother... not the same."

Roll shook her head, thoughts rampant, mostly oriented on the day Tiesel's vendetta and lack of discipline had nearly cost his life, all due to the erratic explosive power of Roll's – then child genius – weapon. Roll remanded herself again, remembering the vow she had taken to never repeat the error by building another weapon.

"...Ever!" she whispered, body curled forward.

"Uh? Roll? Did you say something?" Tron asked, mildly concerned. Roll said nothing, breathing unsteadily. "Roll? Are you okay?"

Tron shifted over to her friend's side and took stock of the glimmering trails on her cheeks. She reached, and touching each shoulder, denied her usual response to emotional adversity.

"The Island, Roll...it's quiet. Just a tour around the city. Beautiful Central Town! No digging and no unplanned combat!" she promised. Roll leaned against Tron, her cap tipped to the side, exposing a bright blond pigtail and forlorn face.

"I was wrong, too," Tron said again, wrapping her gloved hands around Roll carefully. "I don't _like_ Rock, but I don't hate him either. We're not enemies anymore."

Tron had forgiven Roll, and even Tiesel had managed to come to terms with his mistake, and what it had cost him. There was no hatred between them. Coping with life as a cyborg – and not a Digger – left him for want, though she heard he was engaged to be married. Tron pulled back and held Roll in a fixed gaze.

"Why don't we go now."

Roll wiped her face with her gloved hands, sniffing. Tron proffered a tissue.

"Thank you," she replied shakily, applying the offering. "Yes, let's go."

Tron watched Roll stand, cap in hand before she returned it to her head.

"You didn't bring any Servebots, did you?"

Tron rolled her eyes innocently.

"A couple..."

"Good! It's you turn to fly. I'm too... shaky now to do it."

Tron rose with a mock huff, donned a champion's haughty smile and roundly retorted:

"How can I help it if all you want to do is lay around, eat, and play video games?"

Roll giggled.

"Why should we girls always do the hard work?"

-

_Why Tron?_

"I am not _her_ anymore, Roll. You may have survived the transition..."

_You apply the term inaccurately. I did not 'survive', I healed. I grew up,_ Roll replied passionately.

Tron's new dark haired body was complete, save the software that would run it, residing in a temporary drone host. The silver limbed drone regarded the svelte, inert figure with its single optic receptor and made awed noises.

_Are you ready to upload?_

"You know, Roll, you're the only one I could trust."

_Trust?_

"Yeah..." she said, then walked over to the niche into which the drone would fit. "Okay, let's do it."

Roll ran hand over the panel, beginning, initial power tests of Tron's new body. No failures pockmarked the procedure. Then, diagnostic and shell component tests. Fully functional. Though the list, each system benchmarked nominal operating parameters for a GA rated Hunter.

Tron voluntarily quit all active processes and 'locked' her memory into a static file, so that Roll could perform the transfer. She was literally, in this state, a defenseless as paper to searing wind. Roll could decompile her and alter any files she deemed unfit' psychological errors, for instance.

_To do such, I would be no better than Dr. Wily! It would be molestation most atrocious! I cannot betray her that way._

Without a solitary miswrite, Tron's file locked code was uploaded to her new shell, along with the dependencies, dormant in Roll's own system. Duplicating cross-linked files to ensure proper operation, Roll performed a comprehensive sweep for hidden files, which may have attributed to this event... and found none.

Once satisfied with the CRC codes, Roll booted Tron's kernel, and her chocolate brown eyes opened within moments, glinting with intelligence and awareness. Tron's eyes scanned the scene and fell upon Roll. A frown of regret formed upon her face.

"It's not like it was, back then, Roll. Maybe it's okay if you can't forgive me this time," she sighed.

Roll could compare the events on a relative time-track, parallel, sequentially, or in any order that pleased her, but her heart had no answer first. At moments like this the sub-sonic humming her of her body became audible as though the audio filters were not programmed correctly. Auto-Repair reported proper function, however.

Then it came.

"Perhaps I am to blame for this. I was not a victim of my father's genius. He could not have anticipated that result."

"You knew what you were giving up," Tron said.

"I knew what I had to do... ah?"

Scarlet floodlights had activated, triggered by the internal security systems Ident scanners.

{Unauthorized access detected! Two registered Maverick Hunters have breeched the perimeter defenses. What are your orders, Miss Roll?}

"It must be X and Zero!" Tron blurted, stepping out of her niche. "I'm ready!"

"Tron, no! Please!" Roll pleaded.

"I must..."

"What of our promise?"

Tron's cool eyes narrowed, irresolute.

"It is hard coded – I cannot defy it!"

Momentarily perplexed, Roll prepared her wrist blade and shield.

"Roll, I am sorry! If... I am lost soon, do not look for me. I will find my way," she said, penitent but decided.

"I don't...No! _Tron!"_

Her red and black figure were consumed by a narrow sliver of light that seemed to leap upwards, removing her from the sorrowful scene. Roll bowed her head, consumed by the fear for her friend's life.

X, meanwhile, had tamed the security system with his Personal Identification Signal, so the pair entered 'Testing and Final Production' with no apparent difficulty, only to find Roll as silent as she had once been deadly.

-

"This isn't wise."

"It isn't rocket science, sweetie," Ruth grinned, adjusting Yale's misaligned black necktie. "There. You look good in a suit."

"Thank you. You look good, too," he smiled, gazing at her navy dress and white shawl.

"Just 'look good'?" she fired back gently, wiping something from his sleeve and looping her arm into his.

"It's something about you... maybe it's your demeanor," he decided.

"Demeanor? Now that's flattery," she huffed, sarcastic. "Why don't you just comment on the hours I put into my hair? Isn't it in a poor state of disrepair? What about the fine arrangement? Yale, you're a catch, but as of now I'm not sure for what."

Yale frowned, casting his eyes away from the beautifully tressed and gowned woman of whose company he had the immediate pleasure, and chastised himself. Ruth, not an eight of an inch away, looked secretly dejected and wounded by his robotic complements. He plucked at his uncomfortable necktie and tired to remember this advice of his sister.

"Ruth," he began, taking her hands and seeking her clear, hazel brown eyes. "You are stunning, and I thank you for accepting this invitation tonight. Signas wouldn't have fit that dress nearly as well."

The roboticist chuckled politely and smiled winningly, the affair brightening her soft features.

"You have possibly the most amazing smile I have ever seen," he said, the words darting from his mouth before he was quite aware of them. Instantly the effect doubled.

"Oh now you've got it," she laughed delightedly, genuinely pleased.

"I never noticed you before, for anything other than your intelligence. Sounds unmanly, doesn't it? You are lovely."

She squinted a sweet warning at him, and he nodded.

"We won't be late, though?" Ruth wondered.

"No. Not if we stay on course," Yale confirmed, leaning forward and placing hands on the front seat. "How much longer?"

"There seems to be a delay, sir. We've been asked to maintain a stationary orbit in the pre-docking ring," responded a grey robot of diminutive size behind the driver's controls.

Yale nodded, then paused, staring at the robot.

"Do I know you?"

"No sir. We've never met. I know you though," the robot said hastily.

"But I'm sure.." Yale asserted ponderously. "You know... you look a lot like Blues."

"Yes sir. Preferred style for my series. I get that a lot," agreed the robot. "I hear that Blues was Rock's brother."

"Correct, but he's been missing for years," Ruth interjected suspiciously. "What series was that? I didn't hear you."

"You didn't ask, ma'am. Light-001 Classic Design. I am an early revision of that series."

"I see," Yale nodded at Ruth, who maintained her cautious attitude. "What's the delay?"

"B&E in progress. Unauthorized people on the grounds with homemade non-lethal weapons."

"Non-lethal. Paint guns?" Ruth suggested.

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry, I don't understand," said the robot, looking back over his shoulder through black helmet mounted shades.

"Anti-sematists protesting the current establishment. They use red paint to symbolize the blood spilled by our 'mismanagement' of the Reploid and Virus crises. Typically they target local officials and high-level robotic engineers," Yale supplied with a dose of sympathy. "No one's ever hurt, and really they've got a point, but who can change things now?"

"Right. Damn. I'm getting soft," the robot cursed.

Ruth grinned at Yale's gaping maw, more than slightly amused.

"Blues," she said.

"Yeah. Look, I'm not a good liar. Never was," Blues finally admonished with a sigh. "I gotta apologize to you. This self-willed crap is about as fun as Rock at a dinner party."

"Why are you doing this?"

Blue oriented on Yale with a wry grin.

"Piloting your car? It's good credits."

Yale looked stunned and disbelieving.

"No, really. I've done some pretty stupid things to pay my way over the last century, and I've managed to stay legit with you guys until now," he continued.

"Until now?" Ruth prodded.

"Forte wants me to kidnap you two. Here I am thinking 'Forte you moron, how stupid is that?' For once there's peace on Earth! No robot wars, no unnecessary death, no plague, and out with the virus for a bloody change! So we've got a minor economic disaster on our hands... man, I believe 'Unity' has realistic ideals. Not to mention you two are so damned cute..."

"Cute?"

"Quit parroting me, all right? Yale's right, you're gorgeous. You may a great couple, and I'll be damned if I'll let that nut screw you over. Forte's so unpredictable right now I can't be sure he'll kill you."

The venerable picture-perfect couple both paled as one.

"...and since the lollygagging wacko didn't have the sense to tap me, we have the chance to hide somewhere. Is there someplace we can all do that for a few days until X twigs that we're missing?"

"I have a bomb shelter," Yale offered.

"Where to?"

"North."

"Right on," Blues said, keying into manual control. The vehicle lurched slightly as they launched out of the pre-docking ring. "By the way, I'm sorry. I was hoping to stay honest."

Yale was nonplussed, but Ruth spoke up.

"Why did you agree to his plan?"

"I owed him one."


	10. Episode Nine

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: On the promise of friendship, Tron flees from betrayal and sight in her newly completed body while Yale and Ruth agree to hide with Blues from Forte..._

_**Episode Nine**_

"All the time wasted, cycling down to the nanoseconds," Vigor complained, lowering his violet buster cannon at a wooden crate and firing a yellow-blue shot. It passed through the target harmlessly.

"You're making too much noise, Vigor," stated a cool voice sarcastically under a white helmet. "For someone with as much resolve as you. Forte needs no commander."

Vigor fired again, a red-hued burst that vaporized the crate and half of its supporter.

"What? He's insane."

"And we follow him," he chuckled. "Though it's not him that worries me."

"Who are you anyway? What do you know about Forte?" snarled the pantheroid robot, charging his next shot. He spun and laid sight on the newcomer. "What makes you think you can brush off his elite soldiers?"

The shot discharged, but never found its home.

"Axl," replied the robot with no measure of expression, lowering a silver-yellow handgun.

"You c-canceled my shot!"

Axl shook his head.

"Tsk tsk, big cat," he said, un-holstering a second weapon and raising it. "I could have canceled you, too. Next time set your weapon to inorganic dephasing."

With that said, he fired once on each hand, and two crates plumed into particles.

"Why don't I just sit tight, then, Mr. Axl," Vigor suggested amiably.

"Sounds like a plan," Axl smirked.

"You don't impress me," Violen hissed from the shadows. "You're just a hot-shot, fresh from the factory. Nothing more. You don't act like Forte's enforcer, either. What's your directive?"

"My business, that's what. I suppose it matters to you if I reduce your head to metal fibers," Axl rumbled ominously, a curse in his words and manner. "While you're trained on me at one-hundred and fifteen-point two degrees. Who's the coward, chum? Tell me that."

"Improbable! Your triangulation is near perfect!"

"It _is_ perfect. Fear is power, but only in the right hands," Axl replied, replacing his weapons to their hip holsters.

"Arrogance is an invitation to death.. Several years ago that 'ancient' Hunter obliterated my brothers, when Zero was mere parts!" Violen warned. "How will yo defeat him now?"

"Because he'll have no choice."

-

_That's it, isn't it. This is about conviction,_ she realized. The valley she had chosen provided a natural shield against any peering electronics, and the narrow pool of multicolored metallic water barely inches from her feet provided a form of comfort.

"Mama," piped a young female voice. Tron smiled, the solicitude of their surroundings temporarily escaping her notice.

"Yes Ronne," glancing adoringly at the small robot.

"You're hurt," she said, little voice chiming and she climbed into Tron's lap.

"What makes you say that?"

"You look like you're in pain," she answered matter-of-factly, winding blue arms around her mother's neck.

"It'll pass. How are you, angel?"

"Ah..." she considered this, looking skyward with green eyes. "I miss Auntie Roll!"

"I miss her too, but you know, she's never met you," warned Tron. "You must remember always to be polite."

"Not like you, Mama?"

Taken aback slightly, Tron opted nonetheless for honesty:

"I was defending you from them. They don't know the truth yet. If you must fight to protect someone you love, do not hesitate."

"Yes Mama," she beamed. "If you say so. What about Uncle X?"

Disregarding the irony of the title, Tron hefted onto her left hip as she stood, striding around the pool with a clear smile upon her face.

"Ah, Uncle X and Uncle Zero will be overjoyed, I am sure, to learn of their niece!"

"Oh, they are so strong, aren't they!"

"They are. They will protect us."

"Are we in trouble, Mama?" she asked, worry darkening her round features. Tron was a moment before speaking.

"We are in danger, Ronne. Uncle Forte is not well, so he wants to infect us with a virus," she relayed delicately. "We have no barriers with us. I may not be strong enough to protect us from him, but I will try."

"A wise choice. Wait, no... crap!" cursed a confused baritone. Tron adopted a wary glare, setting her defense systems to standby. The seven foot slender bodied Reploid observed the part with interest. "Oh I see. This is?"

"Who are you?" Tron demanded, eyes flicking to the double-bladed axe type weapon attached to his right arm.

"Mama..." Ronne pined.

"Vigor..." he droned. "You created this?"

"Mama!" Ronne's voice ascended fearfully.

"Don't fear. I won't damage you," Vigor intoned with a wry smile.

"Don't lie. What is your true intention? You will regret combat, Maverick," Tron snarled, stepping in front of Ronne protectively.

"Maverick! I am wounded!" he cried melodramatically. "I am a mere assassin! No honor, no pride, no... yep, that's it. I'm here to fight. I guess Forte's grown a wee bit impatient with the mother of his own daughter."

"His own! A portion of code does not make him a part of her life!" Tron growled, warming up her buster, which replaced her left forearm and hand. The business end of the red cannon found Vigor in its sight.

"Whatever."

Vigor crouched, his sleek figure glowing with a sallow hue, and swept his arm in a sharp motion in Tron's direction, who unleashed her second level charge, unsure of its effectiveness. A scathing ruby cloud ballooned over the tainted water, knocking Trone and Ronne back while Vigor still roosted on his rock.

In the time it took the milky expulsion of heat and energy to dissipate, Vigor had closed the gap to Tron's prone side, motionless and charred from the discharge. He paused, eyes searching for Ronne instead of collecting his prize.

"Just like a kid to run off..." he groaned, hunkering down and preparing another charge. "Ronne... oh Roonne! Where aaare you?"

The low moan of wind and twittering noises of insects became audible to him, even the distant howl of a lonesome wolf. He paced around the tree where Tron lay, confident she could not survive another Vigor Slash, and froze. Orienting his audio receivers, he picked up the tail end of a buster charge and the faint rush of air. Diving forward, a ball of caramel heat swarmed his chest and threw him to the grassy earth.

"Ah ... ow!" he whispered. "Nicked my core barrier. She's good."

Leaves rustled, and Ronne departed the darkness of shadows to appear over Vigor with the air of youthful aggression.

"Do not hesitate..." she sighed, lowering her buster to Vigor's head. "My Mama said..."

_Schwam!_

-

Zero, it seemed, could not harness his emotions, dashing twenty feet to Roll's side and surrounding her with his large arms. X stood agape, the weight of this words upon him.

"I feel her," he whispered. "A trace beyond measure, and when I do, the pain ceases to control my being."

Zero and Roll parted. X turned his face aside, shamed.

"I did not mean to intrude," he said, trying to throw up a barrier between his feelings and reality. "I had no right to stare. I am sorry."

"X, please, look at me," Roll pleaded, her tone gentle and honest. "You are my brother. Do not be ashamed by your involvement in my life."

"That is not the matter!" he burst suddenly. Rolls eyes shut, pained.

"What can you say to him, Roll? It is a boolean condition: He will accept us in this way, or he will not."

X's eyes seemed to tremble, his jaw sagging.

"You sound... consummated!"

"I cannot deceive you by delaying the transmittal of these events. It occurred while you were asleep..."

"Please Roll, let me," Zero insisted, sitting on an empty oil canister beside X. "when Roll was awakened from her chamber, I knew that something had been missing from my code. Seeing her activated it. I do not doubt any longer that Doctor Albert Wily was my creator. I have had confirmation from him, a few days ago. He has given me a parting message that concludes many mysteries concerning the origin of the Reploids.

"The Doctor was too old to complete me when his rival began work on you. Time, as it does with humans, caught up with him, and he was dying of lung cancer. Nonetheless, he was confident that Forte's successor would be your undoing, but I was not. As always, had made a contingency plan, so he seeded my body with the Maverick Virus, Sigma.

"Fortunately I was immune to the virus, which left me and became our nemesis. Sigma was more than a virus, X. He was aware, like we are. Complete. What led to his ultimate deletion was greed and fear."

"Fear?" X prompted after an ominous silence.

"That he could never be whole."

"Zero, I don't understand," Roll said sweetly, almost patronizing. "Please explain."

Zero nodded.

"Doctor Wily had hoped that Sigma would replace him, and continue the fight. Instead of programming Sigma this way, he raised him. Sigma had the same shell protocols that drive us. It was not until he believed in his superiority that he turned on us and spread himself to other Reploids.

"Dr. Cain was a brilliant man, but he did not have a complete grasp of our systems. In creating the first Reploid Masters, he neglected a primary protocol: Self preservation. I have chosen on many occasions not to sacrifice myself for the sake of others."

Roll blinked, dumbfounded and a little shocked.

"'Many occasions'?" she squeaked.

X nodded firmly.

"Many. He's one of those kind," he chuckled.

"Oh my. Should we start making scions now, or wait until there's another war?"

"What?" Zero asked, flustered. "What are you saying? What do you mean?"

"Nevermind, tiger, just keep explaining to X," she giggled, patting his buster-arm soothingly.

"Uh... tiger?" he blushed, slinging a look her way.

"Yes, right. Tiger. It's this flowing mane of yours. Your pick. 'Tiger' or 'Flame Boy'."

"Oh, I see. Do I get to call you something?" he asked softly.

"If you haven't thought of something by now I wouldn't recommend it," she answered plainly. "Why don't you continue? X is dying of embarrassment."

X shifted uncomfortably, but relaxed as Zero returned to his story.

"In the time that you and I slept, an Era passed. Prior to the Digger Era, all robots were ordered dismantled and deactivated. Shortlived peace became an economic peak not known for centuries, when the Ancients Tunnels were discovered. Rock was rebuilt, and Roll joined forces with him to become Diggers.

"The Era swelled and ebbed in just a century, and the key players disappeared once again. Roll and the Bonnes formed an alliance and enshrouded themselves in a jungle of technological wonders..."

"What does this have to do with..."

"I will explain, please be patient."

Roll shrugged.

"As I said, Roll and the Bonnes formed a team, researching forbidden Digging sites and unearthing treasures of innumerable value. Yet Roll had begun to show signs of fatigue..."


	11. Episode Ten

**Between Friends**

By Simon Woodington

_Previously: Axl chastises Vigor; Ronne's is revealed to be Tron's daughter; Zero and Roll enlighten X as to the nature of their relationship..._

_**Episode Ten**_

Roll shuddered. The muted thundering of the power grid and sundry howl of reactivated Reaverbots delivered no comfort to her aging frame.

"Rock did this all the time! He wasn't so scared by it..." she said, not sounding very confident. "Was he?"

Tron was so excited that her gait was almost over dramatic, skipping and jumping with truimphantly smiling eyes.

"I haave the traanspoorter!" she chorused, swinging her arms and pointing to the Servebot pair lugging an eight foot long cylinder as if they could burden no more.

"Oh Tron," Roll chuckled, smiling softly at the twenty-two year old woman. "Won't you ever change?"

"Never like you have," she retorted warmly. Roll frowned, glancing over her digger body.

"It's only Rock's armor. I'm not tough enough to Dig without it. Besides the Buster Gun is..."

"A matter of life and death, I know..." she whirled and bent at the middle, hollaring at her faithful companions. "Okay you lazy morons! See that crystal over here?"

"I was going to say 'sentimental'."

"Oh," she muttered, face dimming. "I'm sorry."

Roll's eyes slammed shut, clenched against a flaw in her systems that she could not identify or repair. For its duration, try as she might to respond to Tron's pleas of concern, she could not move. Her voice seemed useless, too.

This time, the Servebots had set up the transporter relay pods, before the system-wide null effect abated. A trace pain at the base of her neck and a point behind each eyebrow remained, however.

Tron looked down, seated beside her previously inert friend.

"Still with us?"

"Yes Tron... forgive me. I couldn't help..."

Tron's brow furrowed irritably.

_Useless ferreting around the truth,_ she thought. "You're dying."

"No, no... after this I'll have a new body and it will go into remission," Roll countered without heart.

"No it won't. Didn't you say it was like code hemorrage? Like mirganes? What does your index report lost this time?"

"Four blocks," she replied sorrowfully.

Tron sought Roll's difficult to catch eyes, and in a moment they latched.

"We've replaced defective parts, even new parts, but there hasn't been a change. I think it was Doctor Light's fault. He didn't know you would live this long."

"His 'fault'? He had nothing but goodwill towards..."

Tron raised her hands.

"I'm your friend, remember? Robotics is an imperfect science, and it always will be."

"You're no help, Tron," she replied, repeating her best friends' name to be sure it had not been lost, also.

"Yes sensei," she quipped, the humour despondent and crestfallen. Tron grasped Roll's hand, pressed it with hers, and then rose to direct the transportation of the crystal to the _Flutter-B._ "Git back to work! What layabouts! C'mon now! Press the bleedin' button! Crimney!"

Roll just listened to Tron bellowing, a subtle smile touching her unpainted lips and scampering away, unnoticed by the depressed girl.

But I'm not a girl, am I? I've been tricking... deluding myself all these years, believing that.

A forty foot column of silver illuminence consumed the metallic-grey pedestal, accomplied by a four note hum tuned to an A#7th in the key of D, thanks to Tron's electronic's skill.

_Electronic Art,_ she thought, listing psychologically with the notes which carried her into a melody that carried no immediate name.

_'I love you Roll. You are as real a child as I have ever known.'_

_'Yes Doctor,'_ she could hear herself say, uncharted depths of innocense brilding her world. She had _not_ understood.

Was it love she felt for Tron, presently? She did not empathize with Tron's sexual desire for other humans, so she surmised that it must originate from another source. Since Rock's disappearance, they had clung to each other, sequestered from a world that would haunt and terrorize them, if they knew of their survival.

_'Family, Roll, is more than a bond of friendship, or the ties of sexual intimacy. There is a fundamental difference in behavior that suggests to me a greater purpose. Humans are machines of flesh and blood, fitting that definition. Our definition._

_"I have witnessed Rock act selflessly time and again striving to keep peace in our society. It is true he is programmed to fight, and even obey, but I did not code his sense of righteousness. He believes unerringly that good is right, so he does what he must, inevitably. He will give up his life in a few days, because of his faith in goodness!'_

_'Don't you believe in goodness, Doctor Light?'_ Roll had asked, akin to her brother's sense of purpose.

_'How can I? Roll, I am not convinced that good is Ultimate. I don't have faith in humanity, for the few that choose it are not enough. They need an advocate, a mighty guide and protector, now, and in the times to come. "End the threat! Destory all robots!" Destroy our civilization, better said! What of their artifically intelligent appliances? Dependency is the fear, and power, moreso! No toaster oven will ever usurp government!'_

_'Doctor!'_

A tired old man had smiled then, and said:

_'Oh Roll, I do love you. I willi make things right, one day. I promise you this.'_

The next day, Roll had fled the Lab, joining Blues in a several decade dodge of the authorities.

_Where is Blues now?_ Roll wondered fleetingly. Beyond the dusk of her remeniscence, Tron had the site cleared of the pods, and sent the Servebots back to the _Flutter-B._ The transporter had captured more than a mere power source. The ancient ruins contained libraries of heavily encrypted data. Whether historical records, daily journals, advanced technical records, all of the above or otherwise, it repsented a potential as yet untold wealth of information!

"Under our very noses the whole time! What did we bother with the Motherlode for?" Tron muttered.

"For family," Roll answered, walking shakily towards her. "Anything is worth sacrificing for family."

The ruin was silent for all but gentle sigh of moving air, caught in the abandoned tunnels like bolts in the hands of Zeus. The ancients, now removed from their technological forge, had succumbed to the adolescent promise of their destiny, and had surrendered their heritage.

"We uploaded Ten petabytes," Tron commented idly as they mounted the elevator platform leading to the surface. Roll pressed the button marked by a familiar symbol, one they hesitated to translate.

"That's all?"

Tron shrugged.

"This may be the last site," she suggested. "I could use a break, couldn't you?"

Roll frowned, emotions mired in a regret layered pit. With a thought as to their stillness, Roll unpacked an energy capsule, rigged for just this purpose. Almost subconsciously she connected it to the elevator long enough to exit. Outside, the _Flutter-B_ hovered in wait, its squarish body stilli as the magenta sunset.

Minutes were spent, gazing in admiration at the beauty of the sky, painted as though by an artist's hand and keen eye. Aboard the _Flutter-B_, and upon entering the pilot's head, cried:

"Blues!"

At least, Roll did. Tron, floundering, consulted with Data, who make monkey noises and flapped about how much fun he was.

"Hi, roll. Not feelin' so hot?" he asked, less the question and experience.

"No. My code is degrading," she admitted, eyes downcast.

"Yeah, mine too. What're we gonna do about it?"

Tron huffed pointedly.

"And just who are you?"

Roll smiled guiltily and made introductions.

"Meet my other brother, Blues. Blues, this is Tron Bonne."

"The Bonnes? I never thought you a rebel, sis," he jibed.

"Ah... uh..."

"Only joking," he added hastily, hands open and raised. "Nice to meet you... hey, you're not a robot?"

Tron looked offended, face souring.

"You... what do you mean by that?"

"Hey, I'm not like that. You know, people are people, robots, world-lusting mad scientists, or whatever. I just haven't met a human not scared senseless by us in years."

Tron sighed.

"She's an engineer, apprenticing in robotics," Roll explained. Blues nodded appreciatively.

"You're her sensei. Cool," he said, impressed. "Nice."

"Yeah."

"All right 'sensei', what's the fix for this bug? I have no plans to die now, so you've got to have an answer."

Roll shook her head.

"It's not a bug. I don't have a 'fix'."

Blues grin receded, pulling away from his lips and cheeks.

"Say again?"

Tron stepped in.

"We've tested, restested, debugged, replaced, repaired, tested again, and found no solution for these errors."

His spasmatic movements subsided in the count of sporatically ascending nanoseconds into seconds, after after eternity, into the dawn of minutes. Blues' shoulders rose and fell unevenly, then became a steady flow like the sleeping breath.

"Roll, how..." Blues started, sarrow in his usually sanguine tenor. "How could he do this do us?"

"I don't believe he meant to," Roll professed. Blue looked up, and she could see the reproach behind his shaded half-mask.

"Always the optimist, taking the Professor's side. Pathetic. He was human, Roll. Ever notice how he wasn't perfect? A human can't create infallible things," Blues growled. "Rock's gone. Who's going to take this one on? No one. Face it-"

"It's over," Roll finished for him. Blues staggered toward a console, leaning upon it and grimacing silently.

"It's happened, Roll. No one's here to save us anymore! Where's Rock when you need him, huh?" Blues voice rambled into an incomprehensible stream of words, a collage of pain, doubt, fear and remorse.

Tron and Roll could only hang their heads in shame. A whining pitch replaced Blues inane babble, and by the time Tron recognized it, his buster had already discharged. Cascading through the delicate systems of the _Flutter-B._ Explosions began to shift and toss the vessel, tearing though control panels and bulkheads like single ply tissue.

Smoke billowed forth like some obscene fog, filling the lungs and retarding air. Roll, unaffected by the chaos, scooped Data into one arm, and jumped forward to received unconscious Tron in the other.

"The escape hatch!" she cried, but there was no aknowledgement from the automated lock. "Can you open the escape hatch, Data?"

"I can do it Roll!" Data affirmed, leaping from her grasp and fumbling with the heavy catch.

"Blues! Blues!?" she cried, with no reply. Briefly she scanned for him, but found nothing. A ringing metal grind and Data's surprised chirp interupted her search.

"Quickly Roll! I've got the hatch!"

It was Blues! Roll ducked under a mess of sparking wires, and made an end run around a column of plasma fire. In the last instant, the Flutter-B pitched starboard. Automatically Roll's auto-nav unit renegotiated, cause her to leap directly into Blues' arms.

Together they dove from the flaming ship, landing and rolling through a tall patch of wild grass. Over their shoulders, a belch of smoke curled upward from the engine room, the expensive equipment insde reduced to liquid metal.

"We're not safe here. Let's move!" Blues cried, getting to his feet. The Flutter-B lurched, its final descend beginning. Roll willed herself move, but the dark abyss of loss struck her, knees buckling and throwing her to the jade bladed ground.

A subsonic rumble sounded in the hull of the Flutter-B, its rent shell cracking and listing rapidly to the earth.

"Take her!" Roll commanded as the bug shut down her communications grid.

"Damn!" Blues cursed.

In the next instant it happened, Blues looking up, the blistering hull shattering explosion, debris scattering wildly. Blues moved with all the speed of which he was capable and covered Tron's body with his own until the roaring cachophany of the Flutter's crashing descent became a stationary funrel pyre.

Rising from Tron's still form, Blues bolted back to the site where a large hull section had dropped on Roll's position, crushing all but the most critical systems. With the might of his short body, and the fuel of emotional desperation, Blues heaved the armored panel aside, and recovered what he could.


End file.
